


what the thunder said

by Geneticghost, kronut



Series: Villainverse [1]
Category: Marvel, X-Factor (Comics), X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Dark, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Hate Sex, Illustrated, Knifeplay, M/M, Rivalmance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Stalking, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 115,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geneticghost/pseuds/Geneticghost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronut/pseuds/kronut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not love, or at least not the same love that 'Star recognizes from TV programs. It's not romantic and it's not about being together and eating ice cream and watching movies, even if somewhere in 'Star's mind he wants it to be. This is about power and control and dragging each other down so far that they can't crawl back up again. </p>
<p>Or at least that's what 'Star tells himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Til The Veins Run Red And Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a villains AU and quickly morphed into a (spoilers?) accidental heroes AU. Anti-heroes? Something like that. The basic premise was: what if Ric and 'Star never knew each other as teenagers, Ric went to deal with his family in Mexico alone, and 'Star never had an emotional guide to help him learn about humanity? There are other factors that make this world what it is: a shift in the power balance between rival mutant groups, a lot of unusual bad luck, a corrupt city and a constant cloud over it all.
> 
> Initially we thought we were never going to post this (it seemed too violent, too intense, etc), but... here it is. We've tried our best to tag it appropriately, but if you notice anything missing, please let us know. Thanks as always for reading.
> 
> Also: there's an excellent comic excerpt from chapter one here http://molecularmonster.tumblr.com/post/127387854800/molecularmonster-amonns-heres-a

"You," 'Star traces Julio's face with a bloodied hand, tipping his chin up. "Prove to be an invaluable partner at certain junctions." He's talking about the bloodied mess behind them, the man that's just stopped gurgling from his slit throat. His target. Their target. Lately they have become one and the same. 'Star used to mind, in fact, he used to be furious that the other man constantly intruded on his missions but now --

Now, he's taken a bit of a liking to him.

Despite having been immovably, infuriatingly stubborn throughout most (if not all) of their previous interactions, Julio makes no move to protest or to struggle against ‘Star’s touch. He lets himself be manhandled, and the only hint of a challenge is in the way his eyes meet ‘Star’s, dark and wide-pupiled and full of fire.

“So,” he breaks the silence, tone sly despite the fact that he’s still catching his breath. “Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” He grins and then falters, and finally he rolls his eyes, tilting his head back a fraction. ‘Star’s fingers leave bloodied prints on his jaw, but if it bothers him -- and it doesn’t -- he doesn’t show it. “Alright, dude, don’t pull the whole oblivious-to-colloquialisms thing with me. I know it’s a knife. It’s always knives with you.”

"More than one knife." 'Star lets his fingers drift down Julio's neck, staring for a moment before grabbing Julio's chin and pressing their lips together roughly, not hesitating to thrust his tongue in. There is the slight taste of copper lingering in his mouth but it's not unpleasant, in fact it only spurs him on. Despite the man's frustrating nature, 'Star could get used to this. He pulls away but not before biting down on Julio's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He's smirking, lips covered in red now, but his true intentions are hidden in the coldness of his eyes. 

When 'Star pulls away, Julio is grinning, lips stained bloody and teeth shiny white and almost predatory in the darkness. _"Finally,"_ he purrs, sliding his hands up across the lapels of 'Star's leather jacket and then around his shoulders, closing the space between them. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to do that." Weeks. Months, maybe. Every time they've met there's been sparks, and friction, but not the kind he wants. He's been going home from assignments, from kills, with an emptiness in his chest that didn't use to be there. Normally a job well done would sate his lust for battle, his not entirely metaphorical thirst for blood, but not lately. There's a piece missing, and he knows exactly what it is.

Every time, he returns to his apartment, climbing in through the fire escape in the dead hours of the morning with cold sweat settling under the collar of his jacket, mud on his boots and rain in his hair and gore under his fingernails, and it isn't enough. Something about 'Star just gets to him, digging in under his skin and haunting his thoughts when he's alone, and he finds himself alone very often. He wants this, whatever _this_ may be, and when Julio wants something he's not afraid to fight for it.

“You could tell me.” ‘Star’s voice doesn’t change from that smooth, deep dark evenness that it always has as he cocks his head to the side and licks Julio’s blood off his lips. “Tell me just what you have been thinking about and perhaps I will think about giving it to you.” He won't make any promises, because he certainly likes to take more than he is ever willing to give, but he might make an exception for Julio. 

Maybe. 

“Stand down!” 

‘Star glances to the side at the interruption, not even giving the two SHIELD agents at the door his full attention. “Two mutant hostiles inside,” one of them says into his comm device. “Do not engag--” He doesn’t even get to finish his entire sentence before he’s screaming, ‘Star suddenly smirking maliciously in his face, sword run through his chest. It’s painful but precise enough to have missed any vital organs. The other agent is panicking, frozen in place and any training that he’s had is gone in the face of sheer terror that someone could be that inhumanly fast. 

“There is no honor in using firearms.” ‘Star finally speaks after the screaming ends and ragged breathing replaces it, nodding slightly to the other man and his drawn pistol, hands still on the hilt of his sword. “You have made a grave mistake in coming here and now you will tell me why SHIELD sent you.” Not the intel he came here for, but Scott Summers should appreciate any and all information about SHIELD hunting mutants. “Julio.” He hails the other man. “Take care of this one, would you? I only need one alive to tell me what I need to know.” 

Julio sighs almost dramatically, sauntering across the room towards the second SHIELD agent. “What was that line about not bossing a guy around unless you buy him a drink first?” On second thought, maybe he should limit himself to one cheesy, violence-related pickup line per night, especially if they’re going to make this a regular thing. Wouldn’t want to run out of things to say next time. He’s less than a metre away from the agent when he finally decides to move, levelling his pistol with trembling hands and thumbing the safety. Julio catches him by the wrist before he can move any further and wrenches his arm to the side, forcing him to drop the gun.

“Don’t point that thing at me, man. I get twitchy,” he warns, and though his tone is casual, his expression is anything but. When he snarls, he bares his teeth like an animal and he moves like one too, naturally graceful with untrained precision. He relinquishes his grip and steps closer, circling behind the agent and pressing his fingertips to the man’s temples. “Sorry about this, but you kind of hit a sore spot.” There is a hum, and an almost-soundless scream from the agent, and a brief delay as Julio moves back across the room towards ‘Star. What happens next doesn’t bear repeating, but suffice to say that he’s glad he moved a safe distance away before it took effect.

‘Star doesn’t even flinch at the display of gore before him, brain matter and blood splattering the far wall before he hears the wet sounding thud of the agent’s body hitting the floor. Collateral damage, but it’s fascinating to see just how Julio’s powers work. “Impressive.” It’s all he says before he turns his attention back to the man skewered through on his sword. He had ideas about torturing him until he gave up any information he might have had, but it seems like the gruesome death of his partner was a little too much to take. The man’s thrown up on himself and in the process moved just enough to sever something important. He’s bleeding everywhere and not long for this world. “Oh dear,” ‘Star sighs and takes a step back before lifting his foot and pushing the man off his sword with his boot. “How unfortunate.” He flicks his wrist and sends the viscera left on sword onto the far wall. 

Julio is by the agent’s side in an instant, sinking to his knees and patting down the pockets on the front of the man’s uniform before pulling one open and yanking out a comm device. It’s flat, matte black and unassuming save for the red light blinking in the top corner. Julio presses his left hand flat to the agent’s wound, slowing the bleeding, and uses his right hand and his teeth to crack the cover off the comm device. He inspects the inner workings of it for a moment before locating a removable component, something not dissimilar to a memory card, and sliding it out of its place with his thumb. Once it’s free, he tucks it into his pocket, removes his hand from the agent’s stomach and stands, kicking the remnants of the comm device across the room.

“Okay,” he says, straightening up and wiping his hand on his jacket. “Lesson time. Think of those devices as airplane black boxes, ‘cept for people. They’re linked in to the agent’s vital signs, somehow, and they’re programmed to self-destruct once their owner kicks the bucket,” he notices ‘Star’s frown and clarifies, “as in, _dies.”_ A nod, and he continues: “so if you want to get the info before it auto-sends itself to SHIELD and then implodes, you’ve got to act fast.” As if on cue, the struggled, slightly wet-sounding breathing from the agent on the floor beside them ceases, and a tiny crunch, like someone crushing a soda can, sounds from across the room. “Of course,” Julio adds with a shrug, “it probably would’ve been easier just to keep the guy alive.”

“Their lives are not my concern.” ‘Star is rather blunt. “I had no intention of coming here and dispatching two SHIELD agents, but it is what was required.” He’s irritated now and he’s still scowling as he sheaths his sword. “Perhaps I will keep your suggestion in mind the next time SHIELD gets in my way.” It’s altogether unfortunate, but they drew weapons and from that point on it was a challenge. He had no choice. ‘Star looks Julio up and down before taking a step toward the door. It seems like the moment they had had earlier has passed and now he’s in no mood to try and court the other man. Another time perhaps. “Someone will be here to clean up the mess. I suggest you are not here when they show up.” It’s not necessarily a warning, but he has to think Julio is smarter than to stick around to watch the bodies cool while whatever reinforcements converge on this place. He stares for a moment, white eye unblinking before he finally turns to leave.

Julio follows him out the door and down the stairwell, jogging to keep up with ‘Star’s long strides (he takes three stairs at a time and he’s the only person Julio’s ever seen who’s done that without looking as though they’re trying way too hard) and then finally giving up and hopping onto the handrail, sliding down to ‘Star’s level. “So,” he says, ignoring ‘Star’s look of withering disbelief, “your place or mine?” ‘Star doesn’t dignify that with a response, but Julio presses on, undeterred. “Oh, come on. What happened to being an _invaluable partner?_ To me telling you what I’ve been thinking about? I was going to do it, before we were interrupted.” He jumps off the handrail at the end, landing semi-gracefully in front of ‘Star and halting his path. “We had a moment back there, man. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

‘Star stops, scowl firmly in place. “Would you like me to tell you what I am feeling now?” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, getting the remnants of Julio’s blood off of it before he springs forward, grabbing the shorter man by the neck and slamming him back into the concrete wall. He’s not using as much force as he could, but it’s still most likely unpleasant. “I am feeling like if I wanted to, I could snap your neck right here and now.” It’s not a snarl, simply a calm and collected fact. “And if you would like to go back to the place we had been previously, I suggest you start trying to persuade me why it would not just be easier to choke the life out of you instead.” Usually it takes him more than just a few well placed jabs to injure his pride this badly, but it was the suggestion that he didn’t know what he was doing that did the trick. 

"Well, for starters," Julio says, calm despite the pressure on his throat and the strain upon his words, "you like me. Or, at least, you _want_ me." That much is obvious. He wonders whether 'Star is this turned on because of him entirely, or if it was the fight, the almost one-sided carnage before that did it for him. Julio isn't judging, of course. _Happens to the best of us, and the best of us is me._ "And that's enough for me, at least for now." Liking comes later, after they've worked out the tension between them, after they isolate whatever it is that throws sparks whenever they get close and burn it 'til it stops.

Whether it _will_ stop is another matter entirely. There's one thing Julio knows for certain, though: once is not going to be enough. He can never just leave things be. He picks at itches until they bleed and argues points until whoever he's bickering with gives up and throws a punch. He is fully intent on chasing 'Star down until he gets what he wants, and that will only be the start of it. He's mission-oriented, and always has been, and now that his previous job has been dealt with, this is his mission.

"So take what you want," he says, clearer now that 'Star's grip has relaxed on his throat. "'Cause you're not doing yourself any favors by denying it."

Taking what he wants sounds like a very good option, even more so as he’s got Julio here, dangling by the throat. But -- if this is to be a game, he wants it to be a sporting one. “I should have you apologize to me.” ‘Star leans in close, grip relaxing a little more but still keeping Julio in place. “I do think however that would be entirely too easy.” They have been going around and around and even though ‘Star is hard and he knows the other man can see it, he has no intentions of giving him what he wants. He reaches down to his own belt and presses a kiss to Julio’s lips while unsheathing a knife, pulling away just to put enough distance between them to eye his shoulder for a moment before driving the blade right through flesh and with enough force to dig into wall behind him. “Have fun getting down and not bleeding out.” It’s not a grave injury, but it should teach the other man a lesson. ‘Star kisses him again roughly before finally taking his leave. 

\--

Julio calls Tabitha the next morning on his way to the bus. It's quite an effort keeping his cell phone resting between his ear and his shoulder, walking with his head tilted, but he manages. He has a styrofoam cup of coffee in his right hand and his left is empty, presently out of commission thanks to the still-repairing muscle in his left shoulder and the bandage that wraps tight around his chest and upper arm to cover it. He knows a good doctor, the kind who doesn't ask too many questions about stuff like this, but god. Mutants with healing factors never seem to pay much attention to other people's limits.

"Ricky?"

It's short for Richter, and there's nobody else in the world who could get away with calling him that, save possibly for 'Star if he's in the right mood. "Tabs? Hey. Yeah, it's me." Pause. "No, I'm not in bed, I'm just holding the phone on my shoulder. Hang on, here's the bus." He steps through the doors once they open, settling in the closest seat and balancing his coffee cup in front of him, between his knees. "There. Better?"

"You still sound like shit," Tabitha comments astutely. Over the line, Julio hears the crack of bubblegum. It's a gross habit, but it makes him smile for its familiarity.

"I had kind of a long night," he explains, sounding far more sheepish about it than he probably should.

Tabitha doesn't pause. "Is this about that guy? The one you were telling me about?" Another crack. "Did you sleep with him yet?"

"Not quite," Julio admits, and for the record he resents that.

"Not quite?" Tabitha repeats. "What's that s'posed to mean? Did you suck his dick?"

"I did not," Julio laments, then lowers his voice as people settle into the seats around him. "Actually, we made out in a stairwell, and then he pinned me to the wall with a knife through my arm and left."

If he's expecting concern, he doesn't get it. Tabitha laughs, that typical giggle-snort she does whenever someone else experiences an amusing misfortune. "So he's your type, then."

"I don't have a type," Julio grumbles.

"You so do! First Jimmy, then that guy whose hairstyle you keep trying to say you didn't copy..."

_"I don't have a type,"_ Julio insists, but he's laughing, and Tabs laughs with him.

"I worry about you," she says finally, once the laughter dies down.

"No, you don't."

"I do!" She sounds indignant, but there's a smile in her voice. "Not 'cause of those guys, or whoever your current special someone is, but... jeezus, Ricky, would it kill you to ask them to take you out for drinks first? How long did it take you to get down, anyway?"

"I _did_ ask," he recalls, as though that makes it better. "And -- I dunno, twenty minutes? Thirty, tops. It was kind of an effort." He'd tied his scarf around his arm first as a tourniquet, and bought himself time, and it was at least fifteen minutes before his vision started to go funny. "Don't you crack your gum at me like that, Boomer, I swear to -- hey, this is my stop. Call you back later?"

"Wait --" she says, but he has already ended the call.

He makes his way up the fire escape one-handed, not wanting to risk the lobby out of habit. For someone who's supposed to be a black ops agent, 'Star's address certainly wasn't hard to find, at least by Julio's (admittedly lofty) standards.

He sets his coffee cup on the windowsill, and knocks on the window. 

There is no one there to answer the knock, but the window is slightly open and the TV inside is turned almost loud enough that he can hear it outside and almost over busy street below. If Julio squints through the window he can see the sparse set-up. The living room has a couch but no coffee table, and the TV and a VCR are the only other things in the room besides a lamp. Both are on right now and it looks like ‘Star -- if this is indeed his apartment -- is recording the latest episode of _General Hospital._ ‘Star himself is nowhere to be seen, in the living room at least. It looks like Julio is going to have to explore a little further. It wouldn't take much to open the window the rest of the way, but that’s counting on the fact that he can use both arms, a privilege he doesn't have at the moment. If he does manage to make it inside he’ll hear the sound of the shower on, at least if he can get the TV turned down. 

Julio finds a way. The window latch is old and unlocked, either because there's nothing in the house worth stealing or because if there was, whoever wanted it would have to go through 'Star first. He shoves the window open with his uninjured shoulder and loses his balance when it shifts easier than he anticipated, falling into the room and onto the carpet. He manages to land in a way that keeps his left side out of harm's way and soon he picks himself up, collects his coffee, and makes his way over to the couch. He is still there, spread out across the cushions with his boots up on the armrest, when 'Star comes out of the shower. 

‘Star had been whistling something but the sound dies away and so does his cheery expression as soon as he sees Julio. “You are a pest, Julio.” He has a towel wrapped around his waist and he doesn't bother to give another glance in his direction as he walks into the kitchen. “But it is nice to see that you did not bleed out from our last encounter.” It’s casual, as if he couldn’t have cared about Julio’s situation either way. ‘Star opens the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of orange juice, pouring himself a glass. “Did you bring my knife?” He runs a finger around the rim of the glass. 

Julio unzips his jacket and pulls the knife out of one of the inside pockets, holding it by the point and waving it in 'Star's line of vision. "And I brought you coffee." It's true; he'd had to guess what 'Star's order might be, but there's a grande vanilla latte on the armrest with his name on it. Or, technically, Julio's name, but the sentiment is clear. "Kinda took a lot of effort to get that to you. I even had to catch a bus over here, 'cause I can't drive with my arm like this." He pauses, but only for a moment, twisting around on the couch to look 'Star over. "You look good like that, by the way. With the towel and all."

"You brought me coffee?" 'Star arches a ginger eyebrow before taking his glass of orange juice and returning to the couch where Julio is still lounging. "This is for you then." He sets the glass down in exchange for picking up the cup of coffee and eyeing it before taking a small sip. "I suppose I should thank you for this and for returning the knife." He would have found Julio in time to retrieve it, but in some ways this is easier. "Do you have another purpose for being here?" He already knows what it is, but he's still not going to give it to Julio. 

Julio bites his lip, studying 'Star's face as he sips the coffee. "I hope that's okay," he says, sounding genuinely concerned about it. "I just took a wild guess, I mean, I don't even know if you like coffee at all." He takes a sip of the orange juice, savoring it. He fucking hates orange juice, but that's not the point. "It's vanilla. The coffee, I mean." He knows he's just talking to fill the silence, but his attention is fixed on 'Star as he drinks; his mouth, and his tongue when he licks foam off of his upper lip, and the damp fall of his hair across his eyes. Close up and in the light, he has more freckles than Julio initially thought, and his eyelashes are unusually long and just as bright as his hair. 

'Star knows that he is staring, but he doesn't make any moves to leave or to go into another room and change. Now that this opportunity has presented itself, he supposes this is his way to tease the man before him. "The coffee is adequate." A small smirk. "Perhaps I even consider it a nice gesture." 'Star grabs Julio's boots and pushes them off the arm of the couch so he has a place to sit. "But it doesn't mean that you are any less of an annoyance." And to some extent he does mean that. Julio continues to be a thorn in his side even if he is a bit more pleasant to be around now.

Julio sighs. "Guess I should've realized that vanilla probably isn't your style." He suspects the joke is lost on 'Star entirely, but the corner of his mouth quirks up nonetheless. "So last night..." he pauses, letting the memory return to fill his senses, and when his hand drifts up of its own accord it's not his shoulder that he touches, but rather his lips. "Was that just an annoyance as well? Did you just do all that so you could get rid of me and come home to watch..." he glances to the side, at the television, "... what is this, anyway? _House?"_ He frowns. "Or did you have better places to be?"

" _General Hospital._ " 'Star answers Julio's question, eyes fixed on him before drifting back over to the television. He's cutting into very important TV watching time, whether he knows it or not. Not that Julio would care. 'Star sets the coffee down before turning back to Julio. "What is it you came here to accomplish? Are you going to attempt to seduce me?" He will admit that if they had been left to their own devices back in that room things might have ended quite differently from how they did, but 'Star's ego is still wounded and he'll play hard to get as long as he can as retribution. Julio is right; he feels something between them, even if he doesn't know how to describe what it is. "You certainly do crave my undivided attention." He reaches a hand out to trace the line of the smaller man’s jaw in a teasing gesture. 

"Listen, you've obviously already made up your mind about me, and what I'm here for, so I'm not gonna answer that." Julio settles against the couch again, resuming his previous sprawl with his legs over 'Star's, crossed at the ankle and resting on the armrest. "Maybe I just want to sit around all day and watch _M*A*S*H_ with you, or whatever else it is that you do around here." The first part of the sentence is sarcastic, intended to get a reaction out of 'Star, but the second borders on genuine -- what does he do when he's not out on jobs, roaming through the night dressed in black and eviscerating people? Who is he when he's not being Darkstar?

It seems wrong to ask. Somehow, enquiring about his name feels like more of an invasion of privacy than stalking him by codename on the internet or breaking into his house. Julio drops that, saving it for later lest the tentative peace between them be broken, and asks instead:

"This can't be all of it, though, right? I mean -- this isn't all you have." It's sincere, if somewhat flippant. 

"What else is it that I need?" It's no less sincere when it comes back, eyes on him curious for a moment instead of cold. "I have a few more belongings, if that's what you mean." And by a few more he means just that. His swords and then a collection of knives, one of which had been missing until just now. It's clear that he's not always in the mood that Julio has encountered him in the last few times they have seen each other. In fact, when he'd left the shower, he was actually smiling. A real smile. Not like the ones Julio's seen him give to targets and other victims. Not one born out of bloodlust. "I am a bit confused about what you expected to find here." 'Star glances down at Julio's boots as they hover over him, annoyance mixing with amusement for a moment. He's bold and persistent, he will admit that. 

“What else do you -- shit, dude, I dunno. Stuff?” Julio is clutching at straws. He wasn’t expecting that answer; in retrospect, he doesn’t know if he was expecting an answer at all, save for possibly ‘Star telling him to leave, or rather making him leave. “Photographs. A record collection. A fuckin’ time capsule full of moon rocks, or whatever there is on your homeworld. You’re not from here, right? I mean, you’re not from Earth.” He’s never heard him talk about it explicitly, but it’s always seemed evident in everything from his speech patterns to the way he moves. “I’m not asking about your belongings, man. Not really. I just want to know more about who you are, outside of… what I already know.” He pauses, turning away from ‘Star to gaze blankly in the direction of the screen again, entirely too distracted to watch. “I guess that’s what I came here for. I mean, aside from the obvious.” Because he’s interested. Genuinely and sincerely, and somehow he’s nervous about ‘Star’s reaction to that more than anything else he’s done. Wanting to get into someone’s pants is one thing, but wanting to know them -- to actually know who they are as a person -- is another thing entirely. Julio isn’t sure which he wants more. Maybe it’s the two together; maybe it has to be.

'Star stares at him for what feels like ten minutes straight after he asks, examining him and trying to break down any possible reason he might want to know about where he comes from or who he is. He hasn't keep it a secret because it needs to be. The only reason he's never brought it up is because no ones ever asked. He's still not sure why Julio _is_ asking, but it's not as if he'll be telling the other man anything that he can use against him. "Gaveedra Seven." 'Star finally says and when Julio looks no less puzzled than before he has to clarify. "You asked me about another name. That was my designation back on my homeworld." It was never a name, just a number, something to label him and that's all. "I grew up as a slave on a planet far in the future. Since I was old enough to wield a sword, I fought for my life almost everyday in a gladiatorial arena for other creatures’ entertainment. When I was fifteen," and he's only estimating with Earth years here, "I escaped the arena and joined with the resistance to fight against our captors. It was futile and after the majority of my comrades were slaughtered, I fled to earth." 'Star leans back and picks up the coffee cup again. "Darkstar is the name I gave myself after I escaped. It is my only name. I implore you to use it instead of Gaveedra Seven unless you'd like your talented tongue cut from your mouth." And that would actually be a shame. 

_Woah. Heavy._ “Talented, huh?” Julio says, in an attempt to lighten the mood, and then cringes. “Sorry. I’m -- I’m not great at this kind of thing.” As evidenced by the fact that he’s actually _apologising._ “Okay, no, let me start over. Maybe I could tell you something about me, to make it even.” He doesn’t wait for a reply, figuring he owes ‘Star a confession in return, and also unwilling to wait around to hear about his disinterest. “If we’re gonna do the whole tragic backstory thing, let’s start with Mexico.” He holds his hand out to ‘Star, and after a moment of pause, ‘Star accepts it. “Julio Esteban Richter,” Julio introduces himself, and shakes ‘Star’s hand. “Killer last name for a guy with quake powers, right? ‘Cept the _killer_ part was always a little too accurate, for me.” He’s talking fast, pitch bubbling over with nervous energy. It’s as though even his voice is trying to run away from the truth behind what he’s saying. “See, my family sold guns for a living. A lot of mutants, y’know, they mostly have problems relating to their powers, no? But not me. For me, it was always _mi familia.”_

"And you took issue with that?" 'Star means the gun selling, which considering the type of work he does now… perhaps if Julio holds firearms with same disgust that he does they may have something else in common other than being somewhat cold-blooded killers. When Julio's hand finally drops away from his he curls his fingers, feeling a bit strange from the residual warmth. "I can understand how you might be disheartened by your family's apparent lack of honor." He didn't ask for this story, but Julio seems set on telling him something about himself and he might as well listen. "Did you slay them all?" It's a guess but it's also the only course of action he knows when it comes to ridding yourself of dishonorable foes or allies. He also has almost no context for what _family_ is supposed to mean. The only examples he has are from watching re-runs of _Full House_ and he's experienced nothing like that. Nothing worthy of the denotation of family as he knows it. 

Julio raises his eyebrows, not at the question ( _did you slay them all?_ ) but at the tone ‘Star says it in. Like it’s the first thing he thought of; like it makes sense to him.

“No,” says Julio, and then he glances at ‘Star out of the corner of his eye, and adds: “Not all of them.”

“I didn’t go back home with those intentions, just so you know. I wasn’t thinkin’, hey, this is my plan and I’m gonna follow it, or anything like that.” He talks animatedly, all sweeping gestures and put-on airs of informality. It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s ever told this to anybody -- not the part about his family, but the reasoning behind it. The circumstances. “I shouldn’t have gone in alone,” he admits. “Not ‘cause I couldn’t handle the ground work on my own. You’ve seen me in action, and you know that. It was more… the downtime, you know? Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got kind of a short temper.” Understatement. “If I brought somebody, they’d be there to hold me back, not to back me up.” He resists the urge to stop at hold me, but it’s that as much as anything. “But nobody got it. Everyone kept telling me to just let it go, and forget about it, but…” he trails off, feeling the makings of what’s best described as a shit-eating grin on the corners of his lips. “Well, you know me. I never could let go of things like that.”

"Tell me how you did it." 'Star leans in a little closer. "Tell me how you killed them." He's serious, deadly so, and it's not because he's angry or anything relating to that. It's because he really wants to know. If Julio can pick up on it, maybe this is one way he can seduce 'Star. With tales of blood and gore and righting indignant injustices. Maybe it's all wrapped up in something worse and decidedly more bizarre, but this is the most genuinely curious 'Star has been when it comes to something other than his own missions. He sets the coffee down against and lets his fingers slide against Julio's jaw before he leans close enough for a kiss. "Serenade me with the details." 

“I’m not proud of it,” Julio tells him, eyeing him as he shifts closer. It’s the closest thing to resistance he’ll attempt, and the last. “But I wouldn’t take it back.” He lets ‘Star touch him, leaning in against his hand with a quiet groan. “You’re so messed up,” he breathes, and he thinks, not for the first time, that he might be a little bit in love. His eyelashes flutter as he glances down, and when he looks up again, the fire is back. 

“I wish I could tell you it was impersonal,” he starts, though he gets the impression that ‘Star wouldn’t wish that at all. “That I caught all the main players in a meeting somewhere and brought the roof down on them or something like that.” He pauses, and ‘Star watches his lips, obviously enthralled. “But I didn’t. Oh, I had a chance to -- I had the building, and the meeting, but I got too cocky.” Did he? Is there really such a thing? “I thought I could go in there and try to make a point. Maybe throw my weight around a bit, bust a couple of heads -- not literally -- and somehow that’d make it okay, like they’d just all get up out of their chairs and go home and stop dealing death.” He shrugs. “I was a kid, and I was dumb. But I fought my way out of there -- guns everywhere, but I never fired a shot, only used my powers -- and after that, I just kept turning up loose ends. Cousins, uncles. Brothers. It got worse every time, and I got better. ‘S where I picked up that trick with the temples and the…” he raises his fingertips to his head, and then moves his hands out, splaying his fingers. “You know the one I mean.”

"Ungraceful yet effective." 'Star isn't judging him, he's simply breaking it down logically. "I do wonder if there is a way you can use your powers a bit more precisely." Or perhaps Julio can explain that to him as well. "There are five points in a human’s sternum that can be pierced without causing immediate death." He's cupping Julio's cheek with his hand now. "If you knew more about the intricacies of the human body, you could adapt your powers to be even deadlier than they are now." 'Star sees them extremely interesting but also a bit... _flashy_ isn't exactly the word he's looking for, but it’s close. He's wondering, not for the first time, what they may be able to accomplish together. His tactical knowledge and the sheer destructive force of Julio's powers. They could make quite the team.

"Careful," Julio warns, and his voice comes out quiet, almost choked. 'Star's hands are incredibly warm, something Julio knows is characteristic of mutants with healing factors. They run hot, immune systems and cells constantly readying themselves to stem wounds and knit skin and fight off infections. He also happens to know that they bleed more than average humans, probably because of blood regeneration, or… hell, maybe it’s just because he doesn’t hold back as much in the case of accelerated healing. Whatever. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you only want me ‘cause of my powers.” He winks, and regains his composure somewhat, and when he speaks again his tone is smooth and deceptively casual. “For the record, I can totally use my powers more precisely.” He smiles, brightly. “Ever dated a guy with vibrating hands?”

"You cannot deny it would be a valuable asset in battle." 'Star smiles and this time it's actually real and only a fraction of how terrifying it usually is. "And no. I've never dated anyone before." He's not sure about that term, but he's repeating it because clearly Julio understands. He's fairly certain he's grasped its meaning. "Let alone someone with a mutation such as yours." 'Star cocks his head to the side as he examines Julio's face. He is very attractive, despite his sometimes grating nature. 

Under any other circumstances, in the company of anybody else, Julio would have laughed. But 'Star isn't joking. 'Star hasn't told a joke for the entire time they've known each other, so why should he start now? "You've..." Julio begins, then stops. At some point, maybe when he wasn't looking, 'Star moved closer. 

Julio realizes he could kiss him. He could close the space between them, and part his lips just a fraction, and close his eyes, and that would be it. He's almost certain that 'Star would let him.

But he doesn't. Something has changed, somewhere between the coffee and _General Hospital_ and the towel around 'Star's hips and the words that still hang in the air between them. _I've never dated anyone before._

Julio swallows, and shifts his legs against 'Star's lap, and then says:

"Let me take you out somewhere."

"Where do you wish to take me?" 'Star blinks at him. He's not sure about this but he can sense the change just as acutely as Julio can. "You are already here and you purchased coffee for me." He's saying it like its the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him. And even if Julio doesn't know that, it actually is. "Where else could we possibly go?" If Julio is planning to get out of this visit what he came here for, he's not sure why they would go anywhere else to achieve it. A date, he knows, is something entirely different from what he was propositioning last night and what it seems like the other man came in here wanting. 

“Uh.” ‘Star still hasn’t moved back, not even an inch, and Julio is beginning to feel flustered. “We could go out for more coffee?” And he could learn ‘Star’s order, and even if the other man didn’t tell him a single thing about himself during the entire date he’d still be closer to finding out what makes him tick than he was at the beginning. Wars of attrition are not normally Julio’s style, but he does what he has to. “Or -- I dunno if you like dancing, but we could do that.” He can’t imagine ‘Star dancing, but he supposes he’d be good at it. Graceful, and such. Julio met his previous partner at a nightclub and that went well, right up until it didn’t. “Honestly? Wherever you want, as long as it’s not here. ‘Cause this is just sad.”

'Star is about to ask him why on earth they would need to go get more coffee if he already has some, but he decides to humor the other man. "Alright. If you'd like to take me on a date..." He's not sure why he's agreeing but he is. "It can be your choice." He decides to ignore the comment about how sad his apartment is and finally moves away from Julio, getting up and stripping the towel away from him completely as he walks into the other room. "Decide before I change my mind." He calls from down the hall, not caring that Julio saw him fully nude.

Julio actually whimpers; a choked, needy sound that hopefully isn’t audible to ‘Star, enhanced hearing or not. He deliberates for a minute, crossing and uncrossing his legs and slumping forward on the couch, running both hands through his hair until he reaches the band that ties it back. He unties it, and pulls his hair into a messy sort of bun instead of the ponytail it was previously, and secures the band again. It’s getting dark outside. He decides they can go for coffee and then move on to a club if everything goes well (and why wouldn’t it?). _Are you really going to make it that long? You’ve made it this far, but who’s to say you won’t end up getting on your knees for him in a dark corner somewhere once you’re out?_ The need is back, hitting him tenfold after what he’s just seen.

He takes a moment, breathing deep and collecting himself, and then he follows ‘Star down the hallway and knocks on the door.

"You may come in." 'Star calls, and when Julio opens the door he's treated to another equally Spartan room, a lone dresser and a mattress with one blanket and pillow on it. It's sad, but it's not like 'Star really knows any better and Julio might not even notice because the tall ginger man before him is now only clad in tight, black leather pants that are not the same ones from his uniform. He's threading a belt through the loops of said pants and if Julio looks down he can see the distinct cut of hip bones above where the pants ride. When he's done with his belt he starts rifling through various shirts and tossing them on the bed. It's clear that he doesn't usually wear them and that he's not entirely sure which one to put on. "Afraid to be alone in the living area?" He quirks an eyebrow at him. 

Julio raises his eyebrows so far he's worried they might touch the ceiling. "Holy hell, was that a joke?" He steps closer, just as powerless to stop himself grinning as he is to keep his hands off 'Star's hips. He comes up behind him, slipping his fingertips under the waistband of those pants, following the outline of his hipbones. His lips are exactly level with the back of 'Star's neck, just below his hairline. It just seems to follow that he should kiss him there, open-mouthed and hot, quiet sounds ensuing each time he pulls away.

'Star shivers and sucks in a breath, the kisses surprising him though he can't say he wasn't expecting something like this to happen. "I am capable," He turns just slightly, not doing anything more to pull away from Julio. "And I am impressed it took you this long to attempt to get in my pants." That is a turn of phrase that 'Star actually understands considering it is quite literal. His white eye drifts over Julio's face from the periphery and he's actually a little stunned that the other man hasn't said a word about his eye or the starburst pattern around it.

"Are you," Julio purrs, the sentence lingering somewhere between a statement and a challenge as opposed to an actual question. _Prove you're capable, and show me you're impressed._ He withdraws his fingers, busying his hands instead with slipping 'Star's belt out of its loops. He folds it over in front of him, pulling the sides together with a snap, and then he drops it, leaving it on 'Star's mattress among the tangle of sheets. He tilts his head up, and kisses along 'Star's cheekbone, one kiss for each lower point of the starburst tattoo ( _is it, though?_ ) beneath his eye. Then, without stopping to spare a kiss for his lips, he lets 'Star turn to face him, and sinks to kneel at his feet.

"Already on your knees?” 'Star shakes his head but it's not really in disapproval. "I thought you wanted to take me somewhere. I don't think this is a romantic date, Julio." Another joke and a smirk this time. He's annoyed slightly but he can mask it and his arousal helps as well. Question is, is he going to let Julio suck his cock or is he going to grab him by the back of his neck and throw him down the steps in the lobby? Both are viable options.

"Yeah, well, that was before you dropped that towel in the middle of the hallway." Julio might be talking dirty, but he's also holding back, waiting for 'Star's word before he moves any further. "And who said I wasn't going to take you out after? I still want to." He licks his lips. "This is just to give you something to think about while we're out." And because Julio can't keep his hands off him, but he doesn't mention that part. 

"If you want to suck me off then you really are going to have to tell me what exactly you think about when when you look at me. Details, Julio." He lets his fingers drift to his shoulders, gripping tight. "Every last thought that crosses your mind when you stare at me." 

Julio chuckles and bows his head, muffling the sound against the bulge in 'Star's pants. "I don't even know where to start," he says once he's done. "I called my best friend on the way here. Told her all about you." He looks up as he talks, noticing that 'Star is watching his lips again. "I think I've got a crush. I'm basically a schoolgirl." He laughs again, darker this time, and lifts an eyebrow. "I mean, I haven't started scribbling hearts in my notebook yet, but I can't stop thinking about you. You're my every waking moment, and all of my dreams, and sometimes you're a nightmare." His smirk turns into a grin, and he rolls his shoulders. A hiss of pain turns into a moan, which carries into his next sentence: "I'm still aching from last night," and whether that's more or less of a lewd statement than it should be is a mystery to him. "I probably will be for weeks but I'd let you do it again." His expression turns serious, and his eyes are impossibly dark. "You could tear me apart, 'Star, and I'd probably thank you for it. I was a wreck last night, but... heh. I'm glad you went for my left arm instead of my right."

Normally he'd be very interested in tearing Julio apart, but those words coming from those lips almost make him moan. 'Star moves his hands from Julio's shoulders up the back of his neck, fingers digging carefully, almost soothingly into his scalp as if to encourage more words. "So I consume your thoughts," he lifts his hips just slightly and the bulge in his leather pants rubs against Julio's lips, making him hiss in pleasure. "I am your obsession." The way 'Star is staring at him is cold but something predatory glints in his eyes as well. "What exactly would you be willing to do for me, Julio? You've killed at my command, and made such a mess too." His fingers continue to rub soothing circles. "How real would you let your nightmares become?" A smirk curls into his lips before his rubs Julio's face on his leather clad cock. 

Julio pauses, shoulders stiffening for a moment, but he snaps out of it fast. _I didn’t_ , he thinks, hiding the thought behind kisses and quickened breaths. _Not at your command._ Not on your orders. He might have acted specifically upon ‘Star’s advice, but it was always his job; he selected it willingly, trained for it, went through with it because he wanted to. He’s not just a weapon to be held and pointed at whoever ‘Star (or Scott, or Nathan) wants dealt with. They’re partners. Equals.

He’s still in control. Everything he says and does from here on in brings him closer to getting his way. _Eyes on the target, Julio._ He’ll get ‘Star back for it later.

“As real as you want them,” he says, and he means it more than anyone else ever could, even if it isn’t completely. It’s true, at least, within the boundaries of this room, and his body. Whatever ‘Star is considering, he’s pretty sure he can take it, and laugh through it like he did the previous night, content in the knowledge that it was him who drove ‘Star to that point in the first place. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

'Star can tell he he touched a nerve inside of Julio, even if the other man thinks he's hiding it well. It's not his fault, anyone else would be too caught up in the pleasure of the small open mouthed kisses Julio was placing on his cock to worry about what was going on in his mind but 'Star is different. He reads everything, body language most of all. "I think you misunderstood." He says simply, pulling away just slightly. "I was not implying that you are some sort of subservient whelp. I was simply wondering in what other ways you might show me how capable you are." 'Star unzips his pants, hard cock in front of Julio almost immediately. "How much of your humanity would you be willing to lose to truly become my partner?" He's talking about the job again but at the same time not. "It's not often that one happens upon someone like yourself." He admires Julio in a certain way but he's not quite sure in what way that really is yet. 

Julio finds himself oddly flattered by ‘Star’s attention to his reaction; the swift, sure way he analyzed it, and the stark accuracy of his statement. Maybe, possibly, ‘Star has been paying close attention to Julio in much the same way Julio’s been doing for him. Maybe he commits it all to memory, too; maybe he wraps himself in patterns and drinks in every detail and still remains thirsty. Maybe they’re even more alike than he thought.

“I don’t know if I have much left to give,” he admits. “Humanity, I mean. But if you find it, you’re welcome to it. Take anything. Hell,” he laughs, but it’s humorless, all nerves and blunt honesty, “I don’t mind if you take everything.”

'Star just might take him up on that, cut and carve and then stand back to see just what Julio is capable of becoming. "I think you'd enjoy that." His hand drifts down to his own cock, gripping it and giving it a few slow strokes inches from Julio's face. "I am still," he gives a choked moan as he touches himself, "very interested in hearing how you planned on capturing me as your prey. How you thought you might make me fall so madly for you." 'Star groans again but this time he's thumbing the head of his cock, wiping away the slickness that's dripping and inviting Julio to do the same with his mouth. "Tell me a good enough strategy and I'll fill your mouth up with my cock." 

“I don’t strategize,” Julio says, and if ‘Star doesn’t know that already, he was bound to find out sometime soon anyway. “I’ve always been better off thinking on my feet. Improvising.” It’s better that way. His job, and his life in general, is nothing but a montage of unexpected, unlikely events, and the day he tries to stick to the plan will be the day it all ends. “I mean, you can spend all day planning escape routes and extraction times and clean exits, but there’s always gonna be anomalies. Spanners in the works. Glitches in the programming. Guys who nail you to the wall with a knife and don’t even have the decency to call you in the morning.” This time it’s him who’s holding back, keeping his lips an inch or so away from ‘Star’s cock even as he offers it. Julio doesn’t take things by fractions. It’s either all at once, or not at all; why settle for something offered when you could prod and aggravate until it’s forced? “Do you want to know how I got down from there? How long it took me? Whether or not I screamed?” He grins, bright and almost sharklike, as though this was some great victory to him, and some kind of pleasure. “And -- for the record -- I think you’ve already fallen for me.”

'Star scoffs but he doesn't pull his attention away from Julio nor his cock. "I would very much like to know the details of that situation." He had thought about sticking around, hanging back some place to watch Julio squirm and struggle, but his annoyance had gotten the better of him and his pride had gotten in the way of his pent up arousal. He knew Julio would try and find him, he'd only hoped that the chase would go on for much longer. Though, he supposes tonight will not exactly be the extent of what Julio wants -- just a small taste of what he could have in hopes to make him even hungrier for the rest of it. 'Star pulls back a little further but he's still stroking his cock rather casually, small moans crawling up the back of his throat that are barely audible most of the time. "I do wonder if last night was the most eventful one night stand you've ever had." One that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with control and power and bloody knives. 

So, really, it had everything to do with sex. “I don’t know if I screamed,” Julio begins, eyes fixed on ‘Star’s hand as he touches himself. Maybe he could try to keep talking until ‘Star comes, catch it all on his face and lick his lips and thank ‘Star for it afterward. He’ll hardly get a chance to show ‘Star what he can do if that happens, though, so perhaps he won’t. “It was all kinda fuzzy at the end. I tied my scarf around my arm to stop the bleeding -- that was the hard part, y’know, ‘cause I had to do it one-handed -- and it’s lucky that I did, since I was already bleeding out by the time I pulled the knot through. Then I pulled the knife out.” It’s still on the arm of the couch, where he left it; thinking back, he wonders if what ‘Star had done might have been merciful, because the knife he used was straight and flat-bladed, and Ric knows that the others he carries on his belt are serrated on the edge and wickedly curved at the point. That might have been his limit. This wound will heal, even if it takes a couple of months, but something from one of those… he’d be lucky if he ever regained full use of the arm it went into. “That got pretty hairy, too. Metaphorically. My hand was slippery. I think I made it worse.” In a few days’ time, he’ll be able to take the bandage off to change the dressings, and he knows exactly who he’s going to ask for help. “All in all, it took me about half an hour to get down. Give or take ten minutes, ‘cause I kind of lost track of time for a bit.” He was caught standing on his toes, holding his position with one foot braced on the stair lest he slip in the blood that collected on the concrete below him. “Made it to a doctor. I don’t remember that part.” He might’ve left a trail, but who here would follow it? Who in this city would care? “And then I got home, and I,” he reaches down to the waistband of his own jeans, and pops the top button, “definitely remember what I did after that.”

"Describe that too." 'Star is panting slowly, licking his bottom lip as he watches Julio with hungry eyes. "The perfect world you have constructed inside of your head when it comes to me." He wants to know what he thinks about when he brings himself off, what sort of bloody fantasy played out in Julio's head. Alone, in the dark, when no one is watching. Julio could probably get him to come just with his descriptions, the way he's so sure 'Star wants him in the same way. He's not wrong, but it's just too good to see him squirm. He's regretting not sticking around to see him free himself, but he supposes there will always be time for another situation like that. Just not tonight. 'Stars picked up the pace of his strokes to himself, biting his lip now as he looks down at Julio. 

“In my mind,” Julio says, quiet but sure, licking his lips as his mouth goes dry, “you stayed with me. You twisted the knife, and you kissed me when I cried out, and that was all the mercy I needed. You were, uh…” The corner of his mouth curves up, and he blushes, just slightly. He should be making something up, telling ‘Star what he wants to hear instead of pouring out the truth, but once he starts, he can’t stop himself. “Into it. Like, _really_ into it.” _Just like you are right now._ “You made me stay up there while you jerked off,” also like you are right now, “um, onto my boots. And then you helped me get down. And you thanked me for it.”

'Star moves a bit closer to him then, feet moving a bit apart. "And then I would have taken you back here and pressed my fingers into the wound to make it stop bleeding. I would have kissed your shoulders and your neck and laid you down on my mattress, put my belt in your mouth and made you bite down while I cauterized the wound." His eyes are a bit glazed over with his own fantasy. "You would have screamed and panted with exhaustion after, and I would have wiped your forehead with the back of my hand and kissed you before making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep." It's tender, in a very bizarre way. 

It's funny, Julio thinks, how you can want something so much without even realizing that you want it. He didn't have the words, didn't dare to imagine that 'Star could be so caring, so... _loving is not the word you want_ , he tells himself, but it's a lie. Before, it seemed wrong to even imagine 'Star thanking him, but now...

"I came so hard last night," he whispers, and finally lets his lips touch 'Star's cock, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the tip. "Thinking of you. Once when I got home, and once..." he swallows. "Before that. When I was still on the wall. I didn't even have to touch myself." He isn’t sure if it happened just as ‘Star stuck in the knife, or in the moments after, but it definitely _happened_. “I hope it was just as good for you. I hope you stained your sheets or wrecked your shower wall. I hope my name was on your lips when you did it.” He’s determined, now, and his expression reflects it; his voice may be hushed, but it doesn’t waver, and he doesn’t blink. “And if it wasn’t, well… I’d like to make up for that now.”

"I am sure you would." It's startling close to what happened except for the fact that his fantasy included Julio crawling on all fours, licking up his own trail of come and blood and then sitting right in his lap and kissing him. As it happens, 'Star came all over his couch, right where Julio had been lounging earlier, and blearily wiped it up with a towel afterward. It wasn't the first time that he's come thinking of Julio in all manner of ways, but he's not going to confess those. He'll keep those to himself until the other man truly deserves to know about them. The hand he's not using to touch himself moves back to the back of Julio's head and he maneuvers him down to his balls. "Kiss and lick and suck--" It's all the instruction he gives.

“Please,” Julio gasps, nuzzling under ‘Star’s cock and breathing in the scent of him post-shower before wetly kissing the base and continuing down to his balls. His lips are hot and his tongue worships in the same way his words do, and he is far, far too talented. He sucks ‘Star into his mouth (right, then left after it, with his lips carefully covering his teeth), swirling his tongue in circles, teasingly slow. He only stops when he hears ‘Star’s breathing quicken, feels his hips twitch as though even he can’t help but lose control under Julio’s mouth, even if it only manifests in the smallest of ways. When Julio pulls back, he stares openly, eyes raking over everything from the sharp lines of ‘Star’s hips to the barely-there trail of hair leading to his cock (as far as Julio can tell, he doesn’t shave it; it just grows like that, which is both incredibly unfair and insanely attractive) to his balls, spit-slicked from Julio’s earlier activities. He notices, with a certain degree of delight, that the freckles seem to go all the way down.

“Are you finished?” ‘Star quirks an eyebrow and he tries to come back to that calm composure that Julio knows so well, but it’s not exactly working. His eyes are still glazed over with lust. “Please tell me you are not finished.” He doesn’t choke on the words and that might be the first and only time Julio has ever heard ‘Star say please. It might have been a fatal mistake, might have let Julio know just how much he wants this, how much he wants him. Give an inch and take a mile is the turn of phrase ‘Star might use if he knew what it meant. He strokes himself, prepared for Julio to neglect to touch him any further. The dam has broken and he silently curses himself for losing control even for a moment. “You have such a talented mouth--” 

"Keep telling me stuff like that," Julio mumbles, lips busy on 'Star's hip, biting and sucking a mark into the soft skin at the top of his thigh, "and I'm yours as long as you want me. And I'm not finished yet," he adds, running his tongue in a damp stripe from 'Star's hip to the head of his cock. He takes 'Star's hand, encouraging him to tighten his grip on his hair, and then he lets go once he gets what he wants. He moves to cup 'Star's balls, one finger pressed firmly to the stretch of skin behind them. "Actually, I think I'm just getting started."

‘Star grits his teeth, trying so hard not to just crumple right here and now under Julio’s mouth. It’s been so long since anyone this talented has sucked him off. He mostly sticks to just fucking people that he finds attractive enough to do so. It’s simple and clean and everything that Julio is not. ‘Star knows he’s not going to be able to come back from this and he’s reveling in it as much as he’s regretting it. His fingers grip tighter in Julio’s hair and he’s holding back just thrusting forward and choking the smaller man with his cock. He doesn’t want to break whatever it is that they have fallen into. ‘Star will wait to choke him later, after he’s come and when he Julio have fallen back into the rhythm he was starting to get used to. “Good -- perfect --” 

Julio takes him in to the hilt, pun absolutely intended, and swallows around him, feeling pressure on the back of his throat. He doesn't choke because he never chokes; he's been good at this for so long he barely remembers what it's like to have a gag reflex. He hums as he draws his head back, and feels 'Star shiver from the pleasure of it, and that's the sign he's been waiting for. He focuses on the finger he has pressed between 'Star's legs, and --

It’s an unexpected buzz of sensation and ‘Star can hardly catch his breath as he comes so unexpectedly from the vibrations going through Julio’s hand. It’s a very dirty trick but the burst of white spots in his vision and the liquid feeling in his gut prevent him from saying so or even doing anything other than moaning loud. If there were neighbors here, they would be very displeased. ‘Star stumbles backward, and in a moment when all his grace and poise seem to vanish he trips on the edge of his mattress and falls onto it. He’s going to kill the other man. 

Right after he recovers from the best climax he’s ever had, that is. 

Julio swallows, and licks his lips, and laughs.


	2. Netflix and Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julio makes a proposal, the guys go out on a mission together, and 'Star encounters another uninvited guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with added viscera! Let us know if there's anything we forgot to tag for.

As it turns out, 'Star does not own or drive a car. Apparently he travels everywhere he needs to go on foot. Julio thinks that's bullshit. They're in a big city, sprawling streets and labyrinthine rows of office blocks, and nothing is really walking distance. That kind of stamina has to be seen to be believed.

_Note to self,_ he muses: _test that theory._

The cafe he usually goes to with dates is not the same one he frequents when he's alone. One is upscale and lit for mood and quiet, the other is a family-owned place that blares music and surrounds its tiny tables with mismatched chairs. The staff speak to Julio in Spanish, which is half the appeal -- aside from brief conversations with the Callasantos sisters when he's visiting Tabitha, he never gets to speak it to anyone these days. That little place is too close to his heart for him to want to share it, at least for now. _Maybe one day…_

"It's just around the corner," Julio gestures. They've been walking for twenty minutes or so. It rained, like it always does; he took off his jacket and let 'Star hold it over their heads in lieu of an umbrella. 

They are greeted at the door, and seated without comment at a quiet, two-person corner table with a lit candle in the centre.

'Star looks a little strange sitting at the small table considering how tall he is. After the waitress scurries away after seating them he stares right at Julio. "Charming is the word I believe someone would use to describe this establishment." It's also a word some people might use to describe Julio himself, but 'Star has many other adjectives he'd use. _Irritating, grating, smug, obnoxious_ and far far too attractive and talented for his own good. Or anyone else's for that matter. The waitress breaks the odd silence at the table that follows after his comment, bringing his drink over. Caramel macchiato with a little design drawn on top in syrup. Also charming. 'Star doesn't do things like this of his own accord. If it were up to him he would still be at home watching television, but Julio insisted and he will admit he was curious about the appeal of going out on a date. 

'Star is still a little confused about what the other man really wants out of all of this. They had their moment, Julio got what he wanted but for some strange reason he's still here.

Julio sips his coffee (iced Americano, no sugar, the kind of thing he'd be spiking with whatever booze was on hand if he were at home), then sets his glass down, plucking the long spoon from between all the ice cubes and using it to steal some of the froth off the top of 'Star's macchiato. In a rare display of consideration, he leaves the syrup design intact.

"I figured out what you're pissed at me about," he finally speaks, removing the spoon from his mouth with a wet pop. "The shit I said about the black boxes, right? The SHIELD comm recorders." He lifts his glass again, offering it to 'Star in recompense for the stolen foam. "You know I didn't mean it like that, right? We've all got our strengths, and that's one of mine." He pauses, noting 'Star's displeased expression at the taste of the coffee, and takes the glass back. "Earthquakes, hacking, and really good blowjobs. Those are my areas of expertise." He winks. "Also, I'm not too shabby in the kitchen, either." _Play it cool, Julio._ "You should come over one night. We could do dinner."

"You suggested I made an error in killing those men." 'Star says, and it's probably not as quiet as it should be. He takes a sip of his own drink to get the taste of Julio's out of his mouth. "I am well aware of your strengths but whether you meant it or not you implied I had no idea what I was doing." Julio should know that 'Star is very deliberate in everything he does. The comm devices were an unknown variable and as much as he may have been furious at Julio for telling him about them, he's angrier that he didn't know about them before. That he hadn't figured it out. 'Star pointedly ignores Julio's comment about dinner in favor of dipping his finger in the syrup on top of the coffee and then licking it clean. 

"Nope," Julio counters. "You didn't _make an error,_ 'cause I was there to grab the comm before it was too late. And now you know, and we're closer because of it, and next time something like that happens maybe it'll be you who covers my back in return." He knocks back the rest of his drink, then rests his arms on the table, wide apart to show openness and sincerity. Sometimes -- maybe more often than not -- talking to 'Star feels like trying to coax a wild animal into coming close, like feeding a saucer of milk to a tiger. He just seems like a big ginger cat most of the time, but sooner or later Julio's probably going to get mauled. "What I'm trying to say is that we make a good team. You're capable on your own -- more than capable -- but together with me, you're unstoppable. Don't you want that? I know I do."

Unstoppable. 'Star very much likes the sound of that and it shows in the way the corner of his mouth twitches up. Julio is very good with words, far better than he is and 'Star turns over in his head how much that might be a valuable asset as well. Being able to collect information without an impromptu torture session and the inevitable bloody mess afterward. "You can be extremely persuasive." 'Star finally says, curling his fingers against the warm cup in his hands. Maybe admitting that is giving Julio too much of what he wants, but 'Star won't lie. "And I was not lying when I stated that you tend to be an invaluable partner." 

Julio's seen him work plenty of times to know exactly what kind of deadly he is. 'Star's kills don't lack finesse, but lately, the body count has been far higher than it needs to be with SHIELD snooping around mutant business. 

"Listen," Julio says, covering 'Star's hand with his own. "I'm running recon on a ROXXON facility in two nights' time. Far as we know it's just a factory, but you know those guys. It's never that simple with them." He's animated again, eyes bright and intent, and under the table he caresses 'Star's calf with the top of his foot. "I need to get in fast and get out faster, and I'm gonna need as much time as we can spare to get into their systems. Everything I can grab without leaving a trace, and I can manage that _no problemo._ All I need is someone to watch my back, and maybe break a couple of necks if security gets too close." He squeezes 'Star's hand. "Come with me. _Work with me._ " His expression is open, sincere, and almost pleading. "Darkstar," he says, turning on him with what could only be described as puppydog eyes. "I _need_ you. And I won't settle for anybody else."

He's made his point, but some part of him can't help but try to drive it home a little more. "And if you say no, I'm gonna have to play the guilt card. 'Cause maybe I could've done it on my own if my arm wasn't wrecked."

'Star has to wonder if maybe this is the real date. "So you are asking me to be your partner." No question at the end, just a statement. "Perhaps you need me to persuade me with more flattering language." Guilt isn't going to work on 'Star, at least not the kind that Julio is trying to use. He'd inflicted that injury for a specific purpose and he's not going to apologize. Besides, it did bring them closer.

In the same way that Julio touched his calf with his leg, 'Star takes the tip of his boot and presses it directly into the other man's crotch. He's not very good at subtle and even worse at not looking terrifying when he smirks right at him. Maybe he actually is part animal.

“I said I needed you, didn’t I?” Anyone else would have recoiled from that touch, or glanced away from that smile, but Julio isn’t just anyone. He arches up, rubbing himself against ‘Star’s foot and moaning just quiet enough that only ‘Star can hear it. “What else were you looking for? D’you want an official proposal?” Suddenly, his smirk rivals ‘Stars in terms of scariness. “I could do that here. I’ve been down on my knees for an audience before, you know. Not quite like this, but the principle is the same.” There’s an undeniable note of sadism to his voice, an ill-defined but acute nastiness mixed with a strange sort of glee. “I bet people would applaud us. We’re a pretty cute couple.”

There is something deeply unsettling about those words and Julio's expression, but 'Star simply laces his fingers in his and squeezes with affection. "I will come with you on your mission." And even if there is meant to be little to no bloodshed 'Star will find a way, he always does. "And when this mission is over, what then?" He's curious. They both work alone and he's not certain that a partnership between the two of them could work one hundred percent of the time. Something would snap; most likely 'Star at least on the business end of things. Pleasure is something quite different.

“It’s like I told you,” Julio says, raising ‘Star’s hand to his lips and kissing each finger. “I don’t make plans. I like not knowing what to expect. It’s much more fun that way.” ‘Star’s boot is still pressed firmly between his legs, and he can’t tell whether ‘Star is pushing down further or whether it just seems like there’s less space now that he’s so turned on. Ideally it’s both. “So you could take me straight home tonight, since that’s obviously what’s on your mind,” he moves ‘Star’s hand to the side of his face, along where his sideburn turns into rough stubble, “or we could stay out, and just… see where we end up. But either way, you’re not leaving. You’ve made that clear enough.” He’s cocky and unbearably sure of himself, but the worst part is that most of the time he’s right.

"I've got a mission to complete in four hours. Accompany me and then we will see where the rest of the night takes us." He could have alluded to that before, but 'Star was unsure if he'd truly want Julio to come with him. Now, however...

"A standard assassination. Three men all of which have been known to peddle mutant growth hormone." 'Star brushes his knuckles against Julio's cheekbone almost tenderly. "I need to eliminate them swiftly and destroy any supply they are carrying with them." Anyone looking at the both of them from a distance away might think them cute and they are drawing stares, but no one can truly know the nature of their conversation. 

“I’m in,” Julio says, squeezing his hand. “Now brief me. Tell me where and who we’re up against, and what you’re gonna need me to do.” Maybe he should be worried. Maybe the idea of embarking on a mission at short notice should fill him with dread instead of with anticipation and excitement, and maybe he should be wary around 'Star instead of trusting him implicitly.

As far as he's concerned, though, he has 'Star wrapped around his finger already. He's leashed, and every hour or so, Julio pulls him a fraction closer. He likes it that way. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

But even a leashed animal is capable of biting, especially if you pull it close enough. 'Star finally pulls his boot away, but not his hand, looking right into Julio's eyes. "They are vile men. Have been known to torture mutants and keep them as factories for the drug. We put an end to them and find out as much information on other humans involved in the selling and buying of MGH." It's as much a fact finding mission as anything else. "Since you are so proud of them, use your skills of persuasion to help me find the root of this black market." With Julio's help, he might be able to take it one step further and stop city wide distribution of the drug. His causes aren't usually this noble, but once in awhile it's a happy accident.

"Okay," Ric says. "I can roll with that." And isn't that the most useful of his skills? Adaptability? "Are you finished? 'Cause I wouldn't mind slipping into something more comfortable before we start." The jeans he picked out this morning look great on him, but they're not exactly easy to move in. If they don't have time to get his uniform, then perhaps he could borrow something of 'Star's.

"You will wear your uniform, and there is plenty of time for you to get ready." He's not exactly sure what Julio had in mind as _more comfortable_ but in ‘Star’s mind, on a mission you wear a uniform. "This mission will call for a certain degree of stealth. I do hope that won't be a problem for you." 'Star finally lets go of Julio's hand and stands up, glancing at his half drank coffee before dipping his finger in the remaining syrup before sucking it clean. 

“I _meant_ my uniform,” Julio snarks, rolling his eyes. ‘Star dips his fingers into his coffee again, and Julio catches his hand before it reaches his mouth, moving it instead to his own and sucking the sweetness off his fingers just as ‘Star had done earlier. Then he saunters off before ‘Star can say anything further, making his way to the counter to pay for their drinks. The waitress asks him if his date went successfully, and he answers that it did. When it’s time to leave, he stops ‘Star at the door, putting an arm around his waist. He dips him low, like a dancer, and kisses him hard in front of everyone. Somebody at the back of the room actually cheers.

\--

'Star doesn't regret the bloody lip that he gave Julio after that kiss in the coffee shop, but he does regret that his bloodstained lips make him even more attractive for some reason. He's going to be cursed with this. "We will split up. Intercept the buyer and then dispose of him. Proceed with the meeting as if you're there to purchase the MGH and find out as much information as possible. I will strike when you've bled them dry of information." His footfalls are quiet as they enter the big building, tall and imposing in the rainy darkness of the night. 'Star glances around the empty lobby before spotting a light from the flashlight of a security guard down the hall. 

Julio jumps on the spot and waves. “Hey!” he calls out, signalling to the guard until he looks over, greeting them with a frown. “Hey, dude, are you Mister Edwards? Howard Edwards?” He stops, frowning deeply. “Or was it Edward Howards?” He shakes it off, false smile returning to his face in an instant. “Anyway. I heard from my buddy Sarah that you guys were hooking people up with, uh…” He wiggles his fingers, somewhere between spirit hands and some kind of insidious grabbing motion. “See, I’m a mutant, right? Or at least I was, before…” he looks ready to continue, but the night guard hurries over to quiet him down before he can.

“Yep. You’re a norm, and you hate it, just like all the other pretty ones.” 

_Bitter_ , Julio thinks, but doesn’t stop smiling. “Yes sir, I am, and can I just thank you for saying I’m pr--”

“I’m not Edwards,” the guard cuts him off, gruffly gesturing towards the hallway. “Third door on the left. He’s in a meeting, so knock.”

Julio nods rapidly, and the guard sighs. “Go. And for god’s sake, try to be a bit more quiet about all of this.”

Julio gives him a mock salute and hurries down the hallway.

\--

"So?" 'Star has been patiently waiting in an empty office, boots up on the desk and a dead body lying in a pool of blood in front of him. It had been previously occupied, but the results of that fight are evident. "What did you find out?" He was going to lie in wait to get the job done, but this is easier even if he regrets the fact that he didn't get to see Julio in action, spinning that web of lies like he seems to be so good at. He's put off a little that he had to wait at all, considering that if he'd been alone he would have just stormed in and pinned someone to the wall until they started talking. This patience thing is a little new to him. He had been more than willing to proceed in quite the same manner as he always did if Julio hadn't took the mission in a completely different direction.

_Unpredictable,_ 'Star thinks to himself. _And maybe overconfident._

Julio looks him over from head to toe and then further down, eyeing the corpse at his feet. It’s an intense stare, the kind people mean when they say somebody’s undressing someone with their eyes, and it doesn’t falter in the slightest until Julio looks back up to meet ‘Star’s gaze. “These are not the men we are looking for,” he says sagely, with a wave of his hand, and ‘Star actually smiles, if only for a fraction of a second. “But no, really. Apparently these guys are just dealers. Negotiators, I guess.” _But not very good ones._ “The guy who supplies to them is apparently some ex-mutant billionaire heir. Y’know that steelworks place across town? This guy’s dad owns it, and a quarter of the city along with it. And as far as I can tell, all the harvesting and manufacturing is done in that building. Maybe in a basement, or maybe on the floor. This could be bigger than we realize.”

"Interesting information." 'Star takes his boots off the desk and leans forward with a sigh. "Also it doesn't matter if they are not the main source. I still have a job to do and you have already gathered all the information we needed." All the information he needed. 'Star reaches behind him to unsheath his swords. "You can stay here if you do not want to watch." Not that he actually thinks Julio would prefer to stay behind, he's simply offering. "We will take care of the manufacturer after this." 

"People will be looking for us after this," Julio points out. "This will be noticed We need to throw them off our trail." He crosses the room and lifts himself onto the desk, laying down across the hardwood with one knee bent and his arms folded behind his head. "Switch it up a little. Think... I dunno, something theatrical. A beheading or two, something that looks like a warning instead of an assassination. Or," he turns to the side, moving his hand to his hip, "leave your swords with me and do it bare-handed. And of course I'll come with you. I've always liked to watch."

"Leave my swords with you?" 'Star levels a look at him before he stands up and moves his sword to lift Julio's chin. The tip of the katana is razor sharp and 'Star cocks his head to the side. "Are you suggesting you can handle yourself with them? Wouldn't want you to accidentally injure yourself." A smirk and it's an obvious jab at Julio's injured shoulder. He looks him up and down before he finally moves his sword away. "It will only take me a few moments so I suggest if you wish to make a spectacle that you get up and actually assist me." He knows this mess will be nothing like his previous assignments and that SHIELD is most likely already looking for him after last night. Perhaps he needs to set it up to make it look as if one of their buyers overdosed and simply lost control. "How much MGH do you think it would take to make a normal human explode..." 

Julio doesn’t even break a sweat. Whether it’s because he trusts ‘Star not to lash out, or because he’s not actually opposed to the idea of him doing so is unclear; he’s not even sure if he knows the answer himself. ‘Star won’t kill him, that’s for sure, and anything short of that is something he can deal with. “The results would be too unpredictable,” he says, once the blade has moved from his throat, giving him space to speak and t. “It’s a nice thought, but if someone grows a healing factor or a… resistance, of some kind… that’s more trouble than it’s worth.” He keeps his tone meditative, not accusatory, and his voice is hushed. “‘Course, we could just cut loose and then torch the whole building after. Normally I’d shake it down, but…” he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the desk, one on either side of ‘Star’s waist, and he shrugs. “Some other time, maybe.” Burning the building seems safe enough. Their goal isn’t to make it look unsuspicious, but merely to ensure that they aren’t personally implicated.

It would probably be much simpler to just kill the targets and leave, smash some containers of MGH and leave it for the police to clean up but -- 'Star turns around before stabbing the desk, right in between Julio's spread legs, with one of his swords. "Take it. Let's see how good you are with a blade." Normally he'd never trust anyone with one of his swords, but the outcome of this could be quite fun to watch. He's guessing that Julio will be clumsy with it, try and be all flash and no precision. Either way, it's going to be messy and these drug dealers are going to get precisely what is coming to them. 'Star doesn't give him any more instruction after, just turning on his heel and finally heading out the office door. If the men are right where Julio left them then they will still be all together and easy to pick off.

Julio holds the sword firmly in both hands and wrenches it out of the desk, wincing at the jolt of pain that surges up his left arm at the effort. He slides off the desk, and rolls his shoulders, feeling the stinging feeling around his wound even out into a bearable (bordering on pleasurable) ache. When he transfers the sword to his right hand, he swings it, testing its weight and its balance, and his grip on the hilt is almost perfect. It wouldn’t have been his choice of weapon -- he’s really better with knives -- but he’s nowhere near as far from his comfort zone as ‘Star seemed to expect him to be. He circles the desk, boots splashing in the growing puddle of blood on the floor in front of it, and follows ‘Star into the hallway.

‘Star is already to the other office door by the time Julio makes it out into the hallway, knocking on the door lightly as if he's another client. There is a pause before the door swings open rather brusquely as if 'Star had been interrupting something very important. Before the man who opens it has a chance to slam the door shut, 'Star kicks the him square in the chest and sends him flying into the far wall. If Julio wants in on the action he's going to have to hurry up. 

 

"Who the hell are you!?" One of the other men screams, grabbing for anything he can pretend to use as a shield. 

"Your worst nightmare." 'Star says. If Julio's close enough to hear he should know he's quoting a movie. _Rambo _, no less.__

__If Julio reacts to that -- if he laughs, and if it’s affectionate, if he feels a sudden bloom of warmth in his chest that’s been missing for so long he barely even recognises it -- then it’s lost to the flurry of movement around him, and the indiscernible string of words shouted by the dealer on his right as he lunges towards Julio. Julio turns on his heel, smile flashing bright in the dimness, glimmering just as cruel and sharp as the blade in his hand, and swings the sword just as the man attacking moves closer._ _

__He has none of ‘Star’s grace, nor his presence or theatricality, but he’s swift and vicious in a way that’s entirely his own. He pushes back his target with a deep, diagonal slash to his stomach, then draws the sword back, holding it again with both hands and bringing it down on the man’s head, splitting his skull._ _

__“I could get used to this samurai movie shit,” he comments, mostly to himself, then pulls the blade clear and turns to face the third target._ _

__'Star doesn't look amused but it might be hard to tell what his expression is currently because his face is covered in blood, a wet gurgling sound coming from the man he'd been carving into. He'd slit his throat swiftly and the spray of blood from that is what drips off of his face and down his neck as he looks back at Julio._ _

__The third man that's cowering in the corner has pissed his pants, shaking and trying his best to look for any way out. "I have information. More information that you don't have! Please just don't kill me, I have a family -- I'm just trying to make some money --"_ _

__'Star quickly stalks over to him after that comment, grabbing him by the shirt collar and hefting him up on the wall. "You have disgraced your family,” he says calmly. "I am more than certain they will be better off without you." He glances back at Julio. "There are a variety of knives on my belt." The man squirms in his grip and he slams him back against the wall harder. "Would you do the honors of making an example out of him?"_ _

__“I’d be thrilled,” Julio tells him, and steps forward. He drops the sword, letting it fall point-first into the carpet, where it sticks, quivering slightly. He slides two knives from their holsters on ‘Star’s belt, one he recognises as the flat-bladed knife ‘Star used on him the night before, and the other a shorter, wickedly serrated blade. He carries the first offhanded, and flips the second in his hand before stepping between ‘Star and the dealer and bringing the blade up to press it, sharp edge forward, between the dealer’s legs. It doesn’t draw blood or even tear fabric, but it keeps the man just as still as he would be if it had._ _

__“Howard, right?” Julio asks, then shrugs. “Or Edward. Or whatever.” His tone turns deadly. “Was that meant to make us feel sorry for you? The thing about your family?” He laughs, hollow and mirthless. “‘Cause you just kinda made it worse. Turn your head.”_ _

__Howard whimpers._ _

__“Would you tell them about this? Your family, I mean.” He’s not looking for an answer; he’s already familiar enough with this to know that none of them will help. “Would you tell your partner? Your kids?” He doesn’t raise his voice and he speaks evenly, and he doubts that anyone aside from ‘Star could tell how purely, unfathomably angry he is. “‘Cause you _could_ tell them, if you walk away from this. Try to make up for it.” He won’t, but he doesn’t have to know that. Not yet. “Turn your fucking head, Howard, I’m gonna cut your ear off.”_ _

__"No -- no no I swear I'll make it right! I'll tell them and live with the consequences of it!" Howard wiggles again in 'Star's grip and he's had about enough of it, pulling another knife from its holster he slams it into the wall right next to his head. "Stop. Moving." He's keeping him held there just by one hand in his shirt. "Or the next move I make will be ending your pathetic life and if we do that then my partner will not get to have the pleasure of gutting you himself. You would not want to disappoint Julio like that, would you?" 'Star cocks his head a bit, like the question he just asked actually has an answer that's not entirely rhetorical. 'Star may be a born and bred killer, but being put out of your misery by him is a blessing compared to undergoing a round of torture from Julio. Or at least he's beginning to see that._ _

__"Please don't cut my ear off -- if you're gonna kill me, just do it. I don't --"_ _

__'Star grabs his head roughly with his now free hand and jerks it to the side so Julio has access to his ear. "Keep speaking and I'll cut your tongue out."_ _

__“Or,” Julio follows on from ‘Star, “you could fill us in on that information you mentioned earlier. Unless you were just bluffing, and you’re not good for it, and you need ‘Star here to make sure you don’t lie about something like that again.”_ _

__“No!” The dealer’s eyes are wide with panic, flicking frantically between ‘Star and Julio as though he’s looking for a trace of mercy in the expression of one of them, and finding it from neither. “I’m good for it. I am. Listen, the guy we told you to see -- Maximoff -- he’s not much further up than we are. He runs distribution, but the people who supply to him are -- I don’t know their names. He told me they’re friends of the family, of his father’s. I only got codenames -- Top Cat, Big Guy and, uh, Blue. I’m sorry, that sounds so dumb, but --”_ _

__“You’re not lying,” Julio finishes for him, and it seems true enough. “But I’m guessing that’s all you know.” He’s understating it. It was vital information, however vague, and they’re effective enough together that they should be able to follow the lead. But --_ _

__“Not good enough, Howard,” Julio says, and raises the knife to his ear._ _

__“Wait! What about my family? I was going to tell them everything, I was going to apologise, I --”_ _

__“You never let me finish talking,” Julio says, the first signs of rage finally making themselves known in his voice. “I don’t _want_ you to tell them. I don’t know them, but I know they don’t deserve to know -- to have to live with the fact that their father, the man who raised them, was a scumbag and a murderer. And, oh, maybe you never killed anyone _directly,_ but you know what this stuff does to people. Your hands aren’t clean, Howard, ‘cause the rest of you is dirt.” He pauses, pants, leans closer. “I hope they never find out. You don’t wanna know what that kind of revelation can do to people.”_ _

__He steps back, taking both knives away, and the man barely has time to draw a sigh of relief before Julio speaks again._ _

__“‘Star? Cut his head off.”_ _

__'Star flicks his eyes over to Julio before he grabs his knife out of the wall with lightning speed and lets it fall to the floor, his sword coming up in one swift stroke and cutting Howard's head off before he even had a chance to whimper or plead 'Star not to. He could have toyed with him more, but he tends not to work in half measures. There is the sound of a thump as 'Star drops the body and the head follows along with it. There is a silence in the air for a moment before 'Star speaks._ _

__"Those code names he gave were rather ridiculous." He leans down to grab his knife that was dropped, having to kick the body to the side in order to get to it. "I doubt they will turn up any other lead." And it's right back to normal or as close to normal as 'Star ever gets, as if he didn't just behead someone and slit another's throat._ _

__“They’re not mutant codenames,” Julio says, idly wiping blood off his face with his sleeve. “They’re more like… I dunno, nicknames? I think we’re looking for guys who fit those descriptions, not guys who actually go by those names.” Mutants, maybe; apparently the Maximoff kid is one of them, or was. Julio reserves a special kind of distaste for mutants who mess with other mutants, and for organized crime, and for MGH, and for pretty much everything else about this case._ _

__He realizes he’s glad he’s not doing this alone._ _

__“Anyway,” he says, flipping the knives in his hands to catch them both by their tips, and offering them handle-first to ‘Star. “Mission accomplished,” he says, in his best Rambo impression, which admittedly isn’t great since he’s holding back a laugh._ _

__'Star looks at him stoically for a moment before actually smiling, a genuine non-terrifying smile (or at least his best attempt at one). "Perhaps I was wrong about you in some ways, Julio." He takes the knives and quickly places them back in their holsters before looking past Julio and at his sword that's stuck in the carpet. "You could have handled my belongings better, however." He's a little sour about the Julio's treatment of his sword, but he can live with it. He's in a rather good mood. 'Star glances up at the clock on the wall and then towards the door. "Another security guard will be down this way in twenty minutes. We need to leave." He brushes past Julio before he grabs his sword and then sheaths both of them. After that display he was hoping to have more time to show the other man what a job well done earns him, but maybe he’ll have another chance after they make their exit._ _

__\--_ _

__Julio wakes to a knock on his door in the middle of the night._ _

__Or rather the early hours of the morning. The red numbers on his alarm flash 3:18, and for a moment, he just lays in the dark and glares at them as though he can intimidate the alarm into ceasing to beep. It doesn't, and eventually, he fumbles for the button on top, yawning loudly as he does. He throws back the covers, noting with faint displeasure that he's been sweating. The night is oppressively hot, just like the day preceding it. Julio flicks the light on and heads to the hallway, adjusting his pyjama shorts as he walks. He's mentally running through a series of creative curses he might direct at whoever has decided to visit -- he figures it might be work-related -- but all his words die on his tongue when he opens the door._ _

__'Star almost falls in the doorway, catching himself at the last second with a bloody hand on the doorframe. "Julio--" He chokes out and in the dim light the hallway not all his wounds are evident but the nastiest are. He's bundled in the most haphazard looking raincoat, a bright blue monstrosity that is now slick with blood and barely staying on him. His neck has a deep slash on it, nothing from a sword but upon closer inspection it might have been claws instead. The rest of him is covered in blood and it looks like he's just pulled his boots on over the sweatpants he was wearing. The worst of the wounds are concealed until he wobbles and the raincoat unfurls a small bit, dropping gore and torn flesh in its wake._ _

__Julio swallows against the bile rising in his throat, and reaches out to catch 'Star before he collapses._ _

__"Don't move," he says, hurrying him inside and pushing the door shut with his foot. He has one arm around 'Star's shoulders and the other at his front, holding the raincoat over the wound on his stomach. He desperately does not want to know what's going on under there. He thinks he might have seen guts._ _

__He helps 'Star onto the couch, laying him on his back with a pillow under his head. He doesn't ask for details -- there's no time -- and when he finally gathers the resolve to speak, his tone is urgent. "Tell me what to do."_ _

__'Star takes as deep a breath as he can muster before he looks right at Julio. "Water. I need water to drink and for you to clean the wounds. Towels too. Hot towels." He swallows hard as he groans in pain. His healing factor is working, but it's slow because of how torn up he is and it won't be any good anyway if half his intestines are outside of his body when his skin starts to stitch itself back together. The attack that left him in this state was a surprise one and even though 'Star won, the mutant that attacked him was ruthless and seemed to care little for the fact that 'Star had a healing factor. He seemed familiar with fighting mutants with them and knew tactics to throw a wrench into the gears, so to speak. He just underestimated how ruthless 'Star can be when he needs to. 'Star's hands are shaking as he tries to press the wound on his stomach to slow the bleeding a little more. "Just get them. Please." He's actually pleading and he feels helpless. It's terrifying especially in the presence of Julio. The last time he was this injured he was on Mojoworld and bleeding out to a cheering audience. The thought makes him shiver._ _

__"Okay," Julio says, risking a glance down at 'Star's stomach and regretting it immediately. _Definitely guts._ It's not that he's squeamish -- he's usually the opposite -- but something about this turns his stomach. It might be the fact that everything's still warm, still living despite it being where it shouldn't be, or perhaps it's just because this is 'Star, and he doesn't want to see 'Star hurt. Not like this. He knows very little about 'Star's healing factor, but what he does know points to this being potentially life-threatening. It could be too much. He might be hurt so bad that it'll just overload his capacity to heal from it. Julio won't know until he looks closer._ _

__"Hang in there," he tells him, trying to sound calming but failing for his inability to mask his own concern. He stands, and runs to the bathroom for towels, flicking on the living room lights as he passes the switch._ _

__He gathers hand-towels from the bathroom and races back to the kitchen, deliberating for a second _(how do you even warm up towels?) _before shoving them into the microwave and turning to the sink for water. He fills a glass first and takes it to 'Star, helping him lift it to his lips when it becomes clear he can't do it on his own. Then he returns for more water, and the towels, and the first-aid kit he keeps on top of the fridge.___ _

____"Okay," he says, settling on the floor beside 'Star, "talk me through this." He's not inexperienced -- he has practice in fixing up his own injuries, when they're not too extensive for him to handle on his own, and he's stitched up friends and team-mates when there was need for it, but the extent of 'Star's healing factor is an unknown variable. "Hey," he prompts, noting with a degree of horror that 'Star seems to be slipping into unconsciousness, eyelids drooping and breathing slowing considerably. "Don't you dare go to sleep on me, _cariño._ Not until this is fixed."_ _ _ _

____'Star's blue eyes blink slowly and then he attempt to snap out of it, the molasses feeling of slipping into unconsciousness retreating for just a moment. "Stomach wound first. It's bad." He's out of breath when he talks, and it's starting to slur around the edges. He uses the small amount of coordination he has left to peel back the raincoat, revealing the gory mess underneath. It looks as if someone or something just took claws to 'Star's belly in the hopes he actually would lose all his guts._ _ _ _

____"Put the towels around. Give yourself a surface to work on. Water next so you can --" 'Star looks dazed for a moment and he makes a pained, choked noise before he continues. "You need to see clearly so clean the wound with water and then press what is outside, inside. Healing factor will sort out the rest." If he can get warm enough and actually stay out of shock. 'Star tips his head back on the pillows, hands idly trying to wipe away blood. "Just -- do it, Julio." He doesn't say as much, but the other man should recognize that without help and help soon he's not going to make it, healing factor or no. It was probably an error in judgement to walk all the way to Julio's in the first place, but it was the only place that he could think about and a hospital was out of the question. Not because they wouldn't help, but because 'Star has too much pride for that and going to the closest thing he has to a teammate was the best solution in his addled mind._ _ _ _

____Julio hurries to do as he was instructed. The first two towels are ruined immediately, soaked through with blood when Julio attempts to mop up enough of it to get a clearer view of the damage. The second two soak slower, framing the gaping wound as Julio pulls on gloves from the first aid box and prepares to start._ _ _ _

____"Okay, I'm gonna -- y'know -- start pushing this all back where it belongs." He desperately wants to crack a joke, anything to alleviate the fog of dread settling over the both of them, but nothing comes to mind. "I'm gonna call my doctor once this is done," he says, almost apologetically. "Don't freak out about it -- he's a good guy. Works with people like us a lot." There's only so much he can do on his own, and he's not interested in taking any risks. Dimly, he realizes he didn't even have to mention this to 'Star at all; the warrior will most likely be out by the time Doc Ramsey makes it across town. He's really just talking so that 'Star has something to focus on aside from his injuries. "Talk to me, man," Julio encourages. "I know it hurts, but it'll help you stay awake, and you really, _really_ need to stay awake."_ _ _ _

____Somewhere in the back of 'Star's mind he knows that, but it doesn't help the fact that whatever he's going to say is most likely not going to be all that coherent. He's losing his struggle with the undertow pulling him deeper. "Talk -- talking. You like to talk a lot." He murmurs. "I am not very good with human communication. People were always too afraid to speak to me when I arrived here." Everyone always seemed too preoccupied or freaked out by him to give 'Star the time of day. No normal humans knew what to do with him and any mutants that he encountered seemed to think all he was good for was killing. He fits into that role well, but if there had been someone to guide him through what it means to be human, he might be better at the social aspects of humanity, among other things. "I enjoy television." He's just stringing things together in his mind now and it probably makes very little sense._ _ _ _

____"I'll put on the TV for you once I'm done here," Ric promises, then turns away as nausea washes over him again. He pushes it back and returns to his task, trying to tune out the sick, wet squelch of 'Star's viscera in favor of the sound of his voice. "I wanna talk to you more. Like they do on television, y'know. Human stuff. I don't care if you're not good at it." He's rambling just as much as 'Star is, catching Spanish terms of endearment on his tongue and biting them back just in time. _Corazón_ and _mi amor_ and _cariño_ and he didn't catch that last one. He's slipping up. Because he's terrified._ _ _ _

____"No one’s ever cared." 'Star says and the confession is stark. He moves to say something else, but the pain of what Julio is doing swallows his words. Deep breaths. Focus, focus… focus on Julio's face and not his hands. Focus on that handsome face and the curve of his nose and the way his hair is messy from sleep. Focus on all that stubble that makes him look so rugged and wickedly attractive, focus on -- on -- "I am glad you care." There is nothing like the brutal honesty of a man who thinks he might die. Of someone who never thought he'd ever have someone to actually want to help him. If he wasn't in so much pain, he might be feeling something else inside of his chest._ _ _ _

____“I --” Julio bites his lip. _I care._ And he does, a lot. Too much to listen to ‘Star when he says things like that. There’s a finality to it that makes him feel sick all over again, makes his hands tremble and his brow break out in sweat. He can’t afford to be clumsy, or distracted. Not now. “Man, don’t say that,” he mumbles, staring pointedly away from ‘Star’s face. “I mean -- not now. Tell me later, after you wake up.” _After you make it through this._ He doesn’t doubt that it’s real, that it’s the truth, but he wants it under better circumstances, and he wants ‘Star to have something to want to wake up for. _ _ _ _

____“There,” Julio breathes a sigh of relief, finally taking his hands away from ‘Star’s stomach wound. It still looks horrific, with large gaps where the skin should be and blood smeared from his hips to his neck, but Julio can see the skin at the edges of the wound slowly knitting itself together. A similar process is taking place on the wound on his neck; the major veins have closed themselves and layers of new skin are creeping across the gap to cover them. Upon inspection, the damage from ‘Star’s waist down is thankfully minimal. Aside from a deep gash in his left thigh, he appears mostly unharmed aside from bruises, visible through the tears in his sweatpants. Julio presses one towel to the stomach wound and the other to the one on ‘Star’s neck, and then turns his attention to the cut on his thigh. He figures he can get to it if he uses the scissors in the first aid kit to cut through the sweatpants -- just that leg, and nothing more -- and sets about doing so._ _ _ _

____‘Star falls asleep, or falls unconscious, not long after he’s cleaned the wounds, and dressed them to hold the skin together. His breathing is shallow, but steady, and he’s no longer losing blood at such an alarming rate. Julio switches on the TV, on low volume in case he wakes up, then leaves him on the sofa and steps out onto the apartment balcony, plucking the phone from its cradle on the way. He calls Doug Ramsey, who is apparently already awake and studying for an exam (he’s not a real doctor, just a med student, but Ric likes and trusts him strongly enough to make up for that), and asks him over._ _ _ _

____Doug says he’ll be there straight away and hangs up, leaving Julio outside, ten floors up, watching clouds roll in across the night sky. He leans against the doorframe, and chain-smokes his way through half a pack of cigarettes from the balcony table, shielding the embers from the rain once the sky breaks open. He watches ‘Star out of the corner of his eye, and doesn’t move from where he stands until Doug knocks on the door._ _ _ _

____What 'Star finally manages to crack his eyes open he's delirious, with body running much, much hotter than normal. He manages to scan the room with his eyes still half-lidded, trying to take in his surroundings. Everything about the previous twenty-four hours is hazy at best and the only things that stand out clearly are both the miserable walk to Julio's and the pain that ensued when the other man pushed his insides back into his abdomen. 'Star knows he was speaking, knows his thoughts were pouring from his mind out of his mouth with no filter, but he can't recall one hundred percent of the content. Julio doesn't seem to be anywhere around. He opens his eyes just a bit more before hissing a bit in pain. Everything is still tender and he can feel the bandages on his neck, his stomach and his leg as well, all wrapped tight and with precision. Either Julio is skilled at treating wounds or there was someone else here._ _ _ _

____Julio returns home no less than ten minutes later, struggling with the door for a moment before sighing so loud it’s audible from inside the apartment. Giving up, he the bags he’s carrying on the ground so that he can open the door one-handed. He picks up what he was carrying (he appears to have bought out half of the food menu at the nearest Starbucks) and moves inside, and sets it all on the kitchen counter. He’s half-dressed (tank top, jeans, no shoes) and ashen-faced with tiredness, and his hair is a sad, unbrushed tangle, and he doesn’t seem to have noticed that ‘Star is awake yet._ _ _ _

____'Star takes that as an opportunity to just observe for awhile, watching Julio put everything on the counter, favoring his uninjured arm when he lifts everything. There is a tinge of something warm in his chest and it's mixed with a bit of regret -- regret for stabbing Julio in the first place. That thought scares him and he tries to push the feeling into the back of his mind as soon as it bubbles up. If he can just lay here and keep his eyes shut Julio won't know he's awake and he won't have to talk about what might have happened while he was gravely injured. It seems like the best thing he can do to avoid it._ _ _ _

____Julio switches on the coffee machine and spends a minute or so staring blankly and aimlessly into the fridge, too exhausted to recall that he was meant to be looking for the milk. As it turns out, there isn’t any. He has an unfounded yet strong suspicion that Doug may have drank the last of it before leaving the previous night. He yawns, closes the door, and pours his coffee black. He rummages through the Starbucks bag, selecting something that might once have been a croissant before it got squashed under everything else, and bites it, carrying it in his mouth instead of bothering to get a plate. He collects his coffee, and makes his way back out onto the balcony, sensing the return of his semi-dormant smoking habit and figuring it’s already a lost cause. He figures, after all that happened last night, that he deserves to not worry about something. He casts a glance at ‘Star, as he walks, but the other man appears to be fast asleep._ _ _ _

____Appears asleep until he has to sneeze, which happens a few moments after Julio walks past. He tries to fight it off the best he can, but he can't. Must be all the dormant dust in Julio's apartment. 'Star surged forward with the sneeze and then groans as his body protests with aches and a sharp pain in his stomach. "Ugh --" he gurgles before letting his head flop back against the pillow. There is not much hope in being able to keep quiet now and he resigns himself to having to explain the events of last night. It is a lost cause at this point. Anything he tells Julio about what happened or how he was attacked is only going to drag the other man deeper down into the black hole of a case that they stumbled upon._ _ _ _

____Julio actually jumps, spilling coffee onto the (already ruined) carpet and almost choking around the croissant. “How long have you been awake for?” he demands, after setting both items down on the balcony table. He crosses the room to the sofa, making a face when his bare feet touch still-damp patches of the carpet, but still taking his place by ‘Star’s side nonetheless. “Feeling okay?” he asks, softer this time, and more sympathetic than ‘Star has ever heard him before. “The doc said you should be, at least soon. You’ve only been out for four hours, mind.” Julio has been awake the entire time, but ‘Star doesn’t need to know that. “If you’re up to it -- y’know, if your stomach is better -- I bought food. Didn’t know what to get, so I got everything. If you’re anything like the other mutants with healing factors that I know, you probably get really hungry after stuff like this, am I right?” All mutants do -- it’s well documented that the mutant metabolism is faster than that of baseline humans, and that exerting one’s powers only makes it worse -- but in Julio’s experience, healers are the worst example of that._ _ _ _

____"My internal organs should have repaired themselves sufficiently by this time." 'Star shifts a little and sits up, making a bit of a pained expression. He shouldn't be doing that, but who knows how long he's actually been on this couch from start to finish. "And yes--food would be good," He finally looks up at Julio. "Thank you." It's soft in tone, something the other man has never heard before. "For everything." He mostly means the wound tending but the more he thinks about it the more grateful he is for food as well. Maybe even more so. He's not as bad as some other mutants with healing factors, but he still is going to need to eat quite a bit to balance himself out. In fact, Julio probably doesn't have enough food to cover it. "I do not want to eat everything you bought, that would make me a terrible houseguest." Bleeding all over Julio's couch and carpet already made him a terrible houseguest, but that's neither here nor there._ _ _ _

____“Thanks for what? Shoving your guts back in?” Carefully, Julio sits down on the end of the sofa, next to ‘Star’s feet. “That’s okay, dude, I kinda liked playing doctor.” He didn’t. He was worried sick, pacing around the sofa while Doug worked until Doug actually yelled at him to leave. He couldn’t sleep at all that night, even after it was over and ‘Star was stable and breathing okay and regaining the colour in his cheeks. He didn’t fear for his own safety -- he knows that ‘Star, even in the condition he was in last night, is logical and tactically-minded to a fault, and if there had been any danger of his attacker following him he would have mentioned it. Or maybe he wouldn’t have come at all._ _ _ _

____He’ll quiz ‘Star on the details later. Right now, all that matters is making sure he continues to recover._ _ _ _

____Well, that, and… “Uh. Speaking of houseguests, ‘Star… where are you going to be staying?” He’s kicking himself for it as soon as the words leave his lips. The answer is obvious. ‘Star can’t go back to his apartment, not now that somebody ill-intentioned has found out his address (and Julio is kicking himself for that, too. He found ‘Star’s address so easily he could’ve done it in his sleep, and he never thought to warn the man about how dangerous that could have been. ‘Star is lucky to be alive, and it’s no thanks to Julio at all). He obviously has nobody else to crash with ( _“No one ever cared,”_ Julio remembers him saying, and somehow that hurts more than the previous thought), so unless he’s willing to risk living alone again..._ _ _ _

____'Star makes a bit of a face at him. Julio is not very good at lying, because he can see the truth of everything written on his face. _Or maybe he's just not very good at lying to me._ "No one should enjoy coiling my intestines back into my stomach." He sighs, shifting a bit to sit up more. "As for where I will be staying, I need to find another apartment. The man who attacked me won't have the opportunity to do it again." _ _ _ _

____Of course finding something else is going to be easier said than done and even without saying it, Julio should know that 'Star would never ask to stay here. Not just because he wouldn't want to risk bringing someone else here, but because he's got far too much pride. It was only due to the grave nature of his injuries that he didn't stay back and attempt to stitch himself together again. "My thanks is for saving my life." And that's a debt that the warrior part of 'Star's mind tells him that he might not be able to repay. "I -- am in your debt." Several weeks ago being indebted to someone like Julio would have been an awful scenario to find himself in, but now? Now he's not entirely sure how he feels about it. 'Star is not even sure if he has words for anything he is feeling right now._ _ _ _

____Once upon a time, and perhaps more recently than he’d be willing to admit, Julio would have been delighted at the notion of ‘Star being indebted to him. His past self would’ve been rubbing his hands together with glee, jokingly throwing possible requests at ‘Star until he figured out which one would make him squirm the most, and then he’d have stopped joking about it._ _ _ _

____Now, the thought of it doesn’t even make him smile. He’s in far deeper than he thought, and suddenly the idea of caring about ‘Star terrifies him. He doesn’t care about many people at all, and he doesn’t do it often. Maybe he has connections, but in truth, he can count the people he actually, genuinely cares about on the fingers of one hand. He tends to avoid it on purpose. The thing about his line of work is that either he can’t tell the people he cares about what he does, where he spends his nights, why he comes home late with red under his fingernails and bruises all over, or he doesn’t need to tell them because they do the same job, and that’s almost worse. Losing people you work with/live with/possibly love is a mainstay of mutancy in general, but Julio knows that being in (or around, in his case) X-Force just accelerates the process. What’s the point of growing close to someone, of learning to work with them, of slowly insinuating yourself into their life if you’re just going to have them ripped away from you, probably sooner rather than later?_ _ _ _

____He’s still not sure. He’d say it was something to do with the time you spend with them being worth the heartache, but that hasn’t been easy either. His carpet and all his towels are wrecked and the sofa will probably have to be burned and he’s just spent the last of his disposable income on overpriced baked goods and ten or so packs of the cigarettes he swore he was trying to cut down on last month. This is hell already._ _ _ _

____He turns to face ‘Star, and doesn’t touch him, and says: “You should move in with me.”_ _ _ _

____'Star blinks at him. "I do not need your pity, Julio." He just wants to find a way to repay the debt and then perhaps just move on. Or at least that's what he's trying to tell himself. As terrified as Julio might be about all of this, 'Star is petrified, not just because he's feeling something other than contempt and a arousal-laced respect for the other man, but because he doesn't know what the feelings are or how to deal with them._ _ _ _

____"Do you still have my raincoat?" He glances around the living room, frowning when he doesn't see it. "There was enough money in one of the pockets to replace your belongings that I ruined. You may have all of it." Not that 'Star is going to have any use for it, though he doesn't really seem to understand the consequences of breaking his lease. Or maybe the landlord would just let him go without any type of problem._ _ _ _

____Which is probably the most likely scenario, considering who 'Star is._ _ _ _

____"I intend to kill the man who did this to me as soon as I recover." 'Star says it as if talking about something like that will just make all the other thoughts go away._ _ _ _

____It doesn't. In fact, it probably looks like he's confused too. Or at least attempting to deflect the question. He just doesn't know how to respond to that sort of kindness, especially coming from Julio. A man who is drenched in just as much blood as he is._ _ _ _

____“Okay, first, _pitying you_ and _not wanting to watch you bleed out on my doorstep_ are two different things.” There’s a touch of annoyance in Julio’s voice, spurred on by sleep deprivation and the mention of exactly how wrecked his apartment is. “Second: your raincoat is in the trash, because it was covered in guts, and if you want it back you can get it yourself because no amount of money could convince me to touch that thing again. Also, who the hell keeps money in a raincoat?” He’s on a roll now, picking up speed and weight like… _I dunno, a really pissed off snowball._ Is this their first proper argument as housemates? They haven’t even officially moved in together yet. _ _ _ _

____“Third -- and, by the way, holy shit -- you didn’t kill him last night?!” Julio throws his hands up in exasperation. Or, one hand, at least. “If whoever did,” he gestures at ‘Star’s bandaged injuries, “this is still out there, then you owe it to me to stay. ‘Cause he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s going to wait for you to get better to come after you again.” At least if they’re together, they might stand a chance, but Julio alone would be in grave danger, and -- somehow more worryingly -- he’s not looking forward to a repeat of last night’s excitement._ _ _ _

____It’s not his only motive, of course, and maybe when he’s slept a bit he’ll even come back to apologise to ‘Star for snapping, but maybe the warrior will respond better to this than to the previous attempt. Maybe he’s better at dealing with ultimatums than he is with kindness. If he was, he wouldn’t be the only one._ _ _ _

____'Star wants to yell right back, but it's almost like he's still too exhausted to do it with as much of a snarling bite as he could. Instead, he settled for a frustrated growl. "I cut his arm off and gave a warning." And 'Star is confident that he won't be coming back, at least not soon and when he does, it's not as if 'Star won't be ready. "And I brought the money in my coat because it was the only thing I had. I need to go back and retrieve my swords." And all of his other belongings, mostly knives and his uniform and his VCR along with all of his VHS tapes._ _ _ _

____'Star moves as if he's going to get up, and he fully intends to until when he gets to his feet he finds himself on the floor a second later, sharp pain in his side nearly making him vocalize how badly it hurts. "I owe my attacker a gruesome death and intend to give it to him." He groans as he tries to get to his feet again, gritting his teeth. "He is a coward and an unworthy opponent." 'Star falters and ends up flat on his back on the floor. "He deserves to die by my hand --" He's panting out the last part. "You need not concern yourself with this." But by the looks of it, Julio does need to concern himself with it. On 'Star's behalf._ _ _ _

____“We can go back,” Julio says, right before ‘Star falls off the sofa. “ _I_ can go back for you,” he corrects, with a sigh, holding out his hands to help ‘Star up. It takes him a couple more falls before he’s willing to accept the help, but Julio waits. “I’ll go today, before anyone moves anything, or…” _Comes back._ He pulls ‘Star up onto the sofa, helping him into a sitting position. “And, yeah, I do have to concern myself with this. I’m… I dunno, _concerned._ ” He sighs again, running a hand through his hair and making a face at its condition. He showered last night, but didn’t risk staying there long enough to actually wash it. _ _ _ _

____It occurs to him that he’ll probably have to help ‘Star shower later, once the bandages are off. He figures he’ll cross that particular minefield when he comes to it. “Listen, I want to go over what happened. See if we can figure out who it was, or why he did it, or…” he trails off. He’s got a sneaking suspicion it might have something to do with the MGH job. It’s mostly a hunch, but he can’t think of any other loose ends they’ve left during their time working together, or any other uncertainties. If this was someone from ‘Star’s past, some vicious ghost, wouldn’t he have recognised him? “Hold on, though. I’ll go get you some food, first.” He stands, and makes his way towards the kitchen. “And -- uh, maybe I should just get you water. I dunno if coffee is good ‘cause you’ll need to sleep more later, and Doug drank all the milk, and…” _Cripes, Julio, you’re totally mothering him. You’re whipped, dude, and not in the way you’re usually into._ “Um. Yeah. Just a minute.”_ _ _ _

____"I know who it is but I do not have a name. It is a man -- another mutant with one of the codenames we were given the other night." 'Star says and then he frowns at the prospect of not getting any food. "I would like a pastry if you went through the trouble of getting them..." There is almost a pout to 'Star's voice and his expression as well but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. He puts a hand on his bandaged stomach before he lays back down on the blood stained cushions._ _ _ _

____It's hard to tell what 'Star is doing, what he want versus what he needs and most of that is because he's bad at communicating. He told Julio just as much last night when he was babbling. Maybe it's best if he tried to communicate the things that he wants in a simple format._ _ _ _

____"I would like some food and my swords and to kill the mutant that attacked me." He crosses his and over his chest once he's said it and settles back against the couch. "And my VCR." Apparently no one told 'Star that it's not 1995 anymore and there are things called blu-rays. "I have many video tapes that are important to me as well." He's very matter of fact about it all, but what did Julio really expect?_ _ _ _

____“What, like, you’ve seen him before?” Julio selects a couple of pastries from the bag on the counter, and fills a plastic cup with water before returning to the sofa. “Shit, maybe _I’ve_ seen him before. What did he look like? And -- those were claw marks, right?” It was difficult to tell, given how torn up everything was, but at least they were nothing like the claw marks he’s most familiar with. Not like Akihiro’s. They have none of the precision, for starters. Whoever did this to ‘Star must have moved on instinct, not on training. Like an animal. Julio thinks of everyone he knows who could fit that description -- the Callasantos sisters, and then Rahne, and Hank -- but none of them would ever do this, no matter how unhinged they all are. This had motive._ _ _ _

____He’s thinking so hard about it that he almost misses ‘Star’s next comment. Almost. “I can’t believe you still own a VCR,” he mumbles, lips twitching upwards at the corners in spite of himself. “I’ll get you to write a list,” he says, before ‘Star can start listing his favourite and most treasured tapes. If there’s too many of them to carry, maybe he can get someone to come with him. Tabs, or maybe Thornn, if she hasn’t forgotten about that favor she owes him. He supposes he could call Jimmy, but it’s been weeks since they last spoke, and this wouldn’t exactly be a great thing to bring up if they started again. _Hey, Proudstar, I know we broke up months ago and I totally screwed up the whole “staying friends” thing, but would you mind helping me move my new partner’s stuff into my apartment?_ He doesn’t want to ask Doug, since he still feels guilty for calling him out so late last night, even if he did raid the fridge afterwards._ _ _ _

____Whatever. He’ll deal with it somehow, just like he’ll deal with the sofa and the carpet and the fact that eventually they’re going to have to face the guy who almost killed ‘Star. And survive. _Somehow._ _ _ _ _

____“Do you want to talk out on the balcony? You could probably use the fresh air.” Plus he’s pretty sure the blood from the sofa is soaking through his jeans. Hasn’t he suffered enough? Those pyjamas he was wearing last night were his favourites._ _ _ _

____'Star considers it for a moment before nodding and pushing himself off of the couch with another grimace. It still hurts when he does it this time, but he's not unprepared for that pain in his stomach that knocked him off his feet before. He stands still for a moment after he gets up, staring at Julio but really just trying to find the wherewithal to actually move. When he finally does, it's with Julio's help, a hand on his non-injured shoulder as they move out onto the balcony._ _ _ _

____'Star takes the bigger of the two chairs and almost sighs with relief when he gets settled into it. His healing factor did what it could and now it's gone dormant mostly until he can feed his body to kick it into gear. It's not used to doing so much work._ _ _ _

____"I do not understand what is wrong with having a VCR." 'Star says it as an afterthought, leaning forward to dig in the bag of pastries and coming across a chocolate chip muffin. He resists the urge to just bite into it and actually takes the time to peel off the bottom wrapper before breaking a piece off in a more _civilized_ manner and shoving it in his mouth. "Also, the mutant that attacked me," 'Star says with his mouth half full before swallowing, "is more animal than man. Blond hair -- resembled some sort of sabre-toothed cat." And the only reason he knows that is because sometimes, when he is alone and has nothing else to do, 'Star wanders around the natural history museum. He likes to look at all the exhibits and learn about earth and everything that used to inhabit this planet. He keeps that small fact to himself though. _ _ _ _

____"It will not be hard to find someone fitting that description and now he no longer has an arm." He thinks back to it and wonders maybe if the mutant did already die. It was not a clean cut, sloppy sword work on his part but he was already starting to get dizzy from blood loss when he managed it. It's actually a wonder that he managed it at all. 'Star takes another bite of his muffin before flicking his eyes down to Julio's coffee cup. It smells good._ _ _ _

____Julio sighs, and slides his coffee cup across the table, fully expecting ‘Star to drink from it and pull a face, just like last time (he’d looked genuinely offended by it, Julio remembers, as if it had betrayed him or insulted his family. _Wait -- does he even have a family?_ ). “That sounds…” Not _familiar,_ exactly, but close. He drops it for a moment, briefly making a mental note to introduce ‘Star to Netflix at some point, and then it comes to him. _ _ _ _

____“These two girls I know -- Maria and Lucia Callasantos, they’re mutants -- told me this story once. I always thought it was a ghost story, y’know, like folklore, or a weird Morlock myth. You know who the Morlocks are, right? Scary, sewer-dwelling mutants? Anyway. Years ago, or so the story goes, someone tried to attack them. To wipe out their settlement, maybe, or just ‘cause he felt like it. ‘Cause that was what he did. Story says they managed to fight him off, or that something spooked him into leaving. Varies depending on who’s telling it, but one thing that doesn’t is what the guy looked like.” He pauses, weighing the two stories together, holding them up to the light to see the overlap. Then he levels ‘Star with a knowing look. “Tall, blond, dressed in stripes like a tiger. Big fucking claws, and big fucking teeth.” He takes his coffee back. “Got exactly the same description from both of them. I know it’s a little vague, but don’t you think it’s worth looking into?”_ _ _ _

____"If it leads me to this mutant it's worth looking into." 'Star only made a little bit of a face when he took a sip of Julio's coffee. Having the muffin to chase the taste away with admittedly helped. "And if he is so desperate as to come after me to protect this MGH then we have found who's protecting the source anyhow. He is not intelligent enough to be producing it himself." He does know that for a fact._ _ _ _

____"I do have some resources I could use to figure out the rest, but it would require me to make a visit to a place I would rather not." Cyclops is very particular about who knows about him and when and if he shows up to his mutant safe haven -- Utopia he calls it. 'Star has always thought that was a ridiculous name. "I will do what is necessary however." 'Star moves to drink the water Julio got for him after he finishes the rest of the muffin. He's starting to feel better already but in order to feel completely normal he's probably going to have to consume that entire bag of bakery items._ _ _ _

____“If I had to guess, I’d say he came after you to tie up loose ends.” Julio is thinking out loud, throwing ideas at the wall to see what sticks. “But I don’t think he knows I was there. If he had, he would’ve come for me first, since I’m probably an easier target.” Knowing him, he wouldn’t have even woken up if the guy had kicked his door down during the night. “I mean, _if_ he was able to track me down. I’ve got a fake name on the lease for this apartment, as well as the papers for my car, and my bike. Likewise with my bank account. I’m practically untraceable, but you -- I found you online, by codename, within a matter of minutes. Remind me to fix that for you, by the way. And --” he bites his lip, glancing away from ‘Star like it hurts to look while he says this. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you earlier. I think he must have found you the same way I did.” _ _ _ _

____"He would have found me anyway. It seems he has a tracking ability of some sort. It was not your error." An apology earns Julio some sort of comforting comment from 'Star even if it's really just the truth as far as 'Star is concerned. "If I had assumed he knew of your involvement I would have never come here." He wouldn't have risked that. Even in just a strictly professional manner he respects Julio enough not to bring death to his door._ _ _ _

____What this is though is far from just a professional courtesy. 'Star came here because instinct drove him to. Because he knew it would be safe. Because in his mind he knew Julio would take care of him. He's not sure where things changed, but he suspects it's when they went out for coffee._ _ _ _

____“I know, dude. Even when you’re… y’know, in shock and bleeding out and half-dead, you’re smarter than that.” Julio doesn’t say it, but he’s thinking: don’t be. _If this ever happens again, come and see me, whether you’re being followed or not. I’ll be there for you. We’ll stand a chance if we’re together.__ _ _ _

____“But not smart enough to catch a damn train,” he adds, with a frown. “Seriously, I can’t believe you fuckin’ shambled across town, like a zombie, at three in the morning.” His tone softens with his expression. “Man, I can’t believe we haven’t exchanged phone numbers yet. I know you like being secretive, but you could’ve called me. I would’ve driven over to pick you up.” Or would he? The thought of that much blood and gore making its way into the interior of his car makes him physically shudder. “I’ll give you my number once we get your stuff back. Wait, do you even have a phone?”_ _ _ _

____"Raincoat pocket." 'Star actually frowns. It was only a little flip phone that he used mostly just because he needed a way to get missions other than in person. "It was a small thing." And now it's in the trash. With all his money. "Where did you throw it out at? I will go retrieve it." He's not joking either and the look on his face before he takes another drink of water lets Julio know that. "I still intend to replace all of your things that I ruined and just so you are aware, I did not take the train because it would have caused a scene. Walking was safer." Safer for everyone else and more dangerous for him. He wasn't thinking of any random strangers well being, but he knew someone, if he was spotted, would have called the police and that would have been a very large mess._ _ _ _

____Julio covers his face with his hands. “Fine,” he says, after remaining like that for a minute or so. “I’ll get your coat out of the trash. It’s just in the bathroom, anyway.” Buried under all the ruined towels, as he recalls. “And you don’t -- you don’t need to replace my stuff, ‘Star, it’s okay. I’m gonna need your help pulling up the carpet, and maybe moving the sofa, but…” Honestly, sending ‘Star out to buy things for his house sounds like more trouble than it’s worth, and there’s no way in hell Julio’s going to try to pay for stuff with blood-stained raincoat money._ _ _ _

____“It’s fine. Couch probably took up too much space anyway.” His apartment doesn’t have much room to begin with; he mostly chose it because of its balcony. “The only thing I’m really cut up about -- uh, so to speak -- is my pyjamas.” It’s not a conscious action, but he sticks out his lower lip, like he’s pouting. “I really liked those pyjamas. I looked great in those.”_ _ _ _

____"If I have sullied your pajamas..." 'Star looks sad for a moment. "Then that is what I will replace." He's still stuck on the whole life debt thing and he's assuming that the only thing that might make them at least a little bit even is replacing something that he ruined. It's still not going to cover everything, but it will help alleviate some of his guilt about it._ _ _ _

____Guilt._ _ _ _

____Well that is certainly new._ _ _ _

____"Simply tell me what I need to do."_ _ _ _

____Julio lifts an eyebrow. “And since when have you ever listened, huh?” It’s playful, and he’s relieved to see ‘Star focusing on something that isn’t his injuries, even if it’s the weird, misplaced guilt he feels over ruining Julio’s stuff._ _ _ _

____“I’m gonna try and remember that. File it away for later, y’know.” He’s forgotten all about his coffee, woken up more by the idea of _telling ‘Star what he needs to do._ He resolves to bring it up later, when he’s less exhausted, and ‘Star is less covered in bandages. “But, okay, pajamas. Uh… I don’t know if you’ll be able to find the same pair -- you remember them, right? So just… get whatever, I guess.” He’s perfectly capable of getting those himself, but ‘Star seems oddly insistent about it. Plus, the idea of him shopping for nightwear for Ric is kind of… _something.__ _ _ _

____"No. I will find you that pair that I ruined. It is only right." There is also a lot that's not really _right_ about this whole thing but the pajamas really aren't one of them. "Just point me in the right direction and I will get what you desire." ‘Star takes a moment to look Julio up and down before he says anything else. The bags under his eyes are dark and he’s starting to wonder just how long the other man has been awake. _ _ _ _

____“You need to rest. You look like hell, Julio.” It’s no compliment, but it’s certainly not as biting as it could have been, _would_ have been a few days ago. “I will take care of replacing your pajamas while you sleep.” He’ll simply figure out what they look like and head to the nearest store to get them. It will be simple. He’s not taking into account that his sweatpants are ripped and barely hanging on by a thread, in fact, they hardly look like pants at all -- just kind of shredded cloth that is only held together by sheer strength of will and the fact that they are so matted with dried blood that the fabric is sticking to itself. Or that he’s going to have to go out shirtless with bloody bandages everywhere. _ _ _ _

____Normally Julio would fight it, but today… “Yeah,” he says defeatedly, the very mention of sleep making him yawn. “Need to have a shower first, though. And,” his eyes flick over ‘Star, down and then back up to meet his eyes. “So do you, if you’re gonna leave the house.” Never mind that Julio himself left the house that morning without washing his hair, and with his newly-changed bandages clearly visible under his tank top._ _ _ _

____He’s been making up a new excuse every time somebody asks him about it; this morning, he was a quarterback on a university football team recovering from a sprained shoulder, and a firefighter injured while rescuing kittens from a burning building. Next time, he thinks, maybe he’ll be a lifeguard who fought off a shark, or a heroic pedestrian who stopped a mugging. “I can lend you some clothes to wear out, assuming we can find something that fits, but… d’you think you’ll be able to shower on your own?”_ _ _ _

____"I do not know." ‘Star attempts to stretch his arms before hissing in pain. “I should be able to, but the process could be quite arduous.” He probably isn’t going to be able to bend over or twist around for another day at the rate his healing factor has slowed to. “Are you attempting to ask me if I need help showering?” He raises a ginger eyebrow at Julio. “I believe I am capable of washing myself.” Although that might not really be true at the moment and it’s not as if ‘Star is actually going to fit in the bathtub if he were to draw a bath._ _ _ _

____“You shower if that is what you need to do, I will borrow some clothing and find your pajamas.” He’ll even take Julio’s ruined pair for reference. “After you retrieve my raincoat, however.” ‘Star has no problem going outside looking like he just walked out of a hospital emergency room, in fact if someone asks, that is just what he will tell them. He was injured in a severe car accident or something along those lines. It won’t need any further explanation._ _ _ _

____“Nope,” Julio shakes his head. “Uh-uh. No way. You’re not wearing any of my clothes until you shower, and you’re not going out in those sweatpants either. You’ll probably get arrested.” Because the sweatpants are so bloodstained that Julio wouldn’t even know they were once grey if he hadn’t seen them earlier, and because they’re missing the left leg entirely, thanks to Julio’s rush to attend to the wound on ‘Star’s leg. He might have cut the fabric a little higher up than was needed, but he blames shaky hands and slippery scissors for that entirely. “You can shower first, if you’re gonna be so impatient about it. I’ll wait.” He’s felt disgusting for the past five hours, and another twenty minutes or so won’t kill him. Also, he feels like a cigarette. Again._ _ _ _

____“You shower first. I insist.” ‘Star actually glares at him this time, taking a small sip of water from his cup after he says it. “I can asses the damage done to my body while you shower and look less like you’ve not slept in two days and cease to smell like ash and chemicals.” He means the cigarette smell, but it’s not as if he knows about Julio’s smoking habits. At least not yet. “So go or I will force you to go.” Julio probably could overpower him in his current state, but he’d be willing to put up a fight if only to get the satisfaction of actually pushing Julio into the shower._ _ _ _

____Fortunately, he doesn’t have to. “Fine,” Julio relents, “as long as you go after me. If I come out of there and you’re gone, I’m gonna find you and drag you back here.” He downs the rest of his coffee, shuddering when it turns out to be cold, and then he stands, stretching his arms before tugging his shirt off over his head._ _ _ _

____So what if he smells like, quote unquote, ash and chemicals? He still needs to get back at ‘Star for that incident with the towel a week or so ago. He steps inside, leaving the coffee cup on the balcony for the time being, and unzips his jeans, almost shimmying out of them as he makes his way to the bathroom. “Bedroom’s down the hall to the right,” he calls out over his shoulder, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door._ _ _ _

____Julio doesn’t have to shut the door, because when ‘Star hears the shower running he shuts it for him, gently enough that he might not even notice until it’s too late. It’s easy to get out of the torn sweatpants and easier still to pull on a pair of what looks like gym shorts. They will do. ‘Star dresses as quickly as possible before making his way out into the hallway, barefoot and still shirtless save for bloody bandages. He thinks about actually leaving for a moment before realizing that his raincoat and all of his money are still in the bathroom garbage where Julio said he left them. He could just take what he needs from the store, but that is an option best left unexplored at the moment._ _ _ _

____Instead he takes a walk down the hallway, turning a corner and heading down some steps to a small alcove with an assortment of vending machines. The food Julio picked up was good, but not nearly enough to give him the strength he requires to heal properly. ‘Star recognizes a few items in one of the machines, bags of cookies and little snack cakes. His stomach gurgles a little bit in recognition. When he does go to the store to buy food, his purchases are strictly based on advertising, either on TV or signs around the city. He’s no stranger to those little frosting filled cupcakes that stare back at him from behind the glass. He just needs a way to get them out._ _ _ _

____Should be quite simple._ _ _ _


	3. Important Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Star learns a little more about vending machines. Julio learns a little more about 'Star.

Julio exits the shower to an empty apartment and an ominous rattling noise coming from the hallway outside. He raises his eyebrows, throwing his hands up in a gesture of disbelief, and glances around the bathroom for something to wear. Everything in the laundry hamper is ruined (as opposed to _slightly sweaty or a bit stained, but I’ve only been wearing it for two days, promise_ ), so he settles on the bathrobe hanging from the back of the door. He unhooks it and slips it on, tying it around his waist.

He finds ‘Star crouching in front of one of the vending machines in the hall, seemingly attempting to reach through the slot at the front to acquire something from within. It would almost be endearingly ridiculous were it not for the fact that ‘Star had left the house immediately after being told not to, and the fact that he’s put on a pair of Julio’s shorts without showering first. _Damn it,_ Julio thinks. That was an important pair of shorts. They’re the ones he wears when he washes his car.

He waits by the door, and by the time ‘Star notices him, his expression is positively murderous.

'Star pulls his hand out of the vending machine and stands slowly when he notices Julio. "I was taking in my surroundings," he says as if he owes him an explanation. _He most certainly does not._ "I did not wander away." He glares back but it just doesn't seem to reach the levels of venom that Julio is pouring into his glare. "I was going to bring something back for the both of us,” he explains, placing his hands on his hips and standing still, trying not to look away from those eyes. 

Julio stares him down in silence for several seconds longer before relenting, shrugging his shoulders and exhaling in loud exasperation. “Fine,” he says, looking pointedly away from ‘Star, as though doing so will deny the other man the satisfaction in knowing he’s won. “There’s change on the counter. How much do you need?” Perhaps if he satisfies ‘Star’s curiosity regarding the vending machines now he won’t have to deal with it again later. He hopes it goes terribly. He hopes ‘Star ends up with the most ancient, most squashed Hostess Ridiculouslynamed Cakeproduct in the entire machine. He hopes the entire experience scars him for life and gives him a fear of packaged hallway food in general. 

He hopes his car shorts aren’t completely ruined.

'Star stares for a second, examining Julio's body language before narrowing his eyes. He's angry about something, and he thinks he knows what it is. "You are a very confusing man." He grunts before yanking down Julio's shorts and taking them off, leaving himself completely nude in the hallway. "You wanted me to clothe myself yet get angry when I do." He throws those shorts right at Julio's face before almost stomping up the steps. _Fine._ He won't eat anything from the machine, he'll just sit around and wait for his healing factor to slowly make his aches and pains go away. For all he knows, maybe making him sit around in pain was Julio's plan all along.

Julio stands in the hallway, gaping, for what seems like an age. Eventually he gathers the strength to pull the shorts off of his head. Soon after it occurs to him that ‘Star may not be returning with the previously mentioned change from the counter, and is instead probably sulking on the couch or the balcony, still entirely nude.

_Un-fucking-believable,_ Julio thinks. ‘Star is unbelievable. Ego-driven and ridiculous and so far removed from humanity despite how long he’s been living on Earth that Julio doesn’t know how he even does it.

Except.

He does know. ‘Star actually told him, the previous night. _No-one’s ever cared._ The words echo inside his head, swirling and spinning so fast it almost makes him feel ill. _He’s intolerable,_ Ric tells himself. _He’s a nightmare and it’s no wonder nobody stuck around long enough to learn to care._

Julio is good at lying to himself, but even he has limits. _He_ cares. They’ve only known each other for a couple of months, and only been talking for just over a week, but Julio cares and it’s messing with him. He’s got a long history of falling for people (romantically or otherwise) who drive him up the fucking wall, but ‘Star overshadows all of that. Julio is beginning to suspect that it’s an ongoing theme with him.

He follows ‘Star back into the apartment and closes the door very quietly behind him. “I didn’t mean to confuse you,” he calls out, carefully gentle. 

"Well." 'Star is sitting on the couch with the most scornful-looking pout on his face. "You did a very poor job at explaining what you expected of me." Which is both true and not true. Perhaps things would have gone better if Julio had helped him in the shower or if there had been some sort of conversation about certain clothing being off limits. "You needed a shower and you still need to sleep, I need more food and to replace your things. While you were occupied I thought the best course of action was to map out my surroundings -- and then I saw the snacks in the machine." He huffs again, but it's the closest that Julio is going to get to an explanation about why 'Star went wandering in the first place. 

He looks up at Julio and the back down at his bandages, picking at some dried blood. "It is very difficult for me to be at the mercy of someone else." That's true, but it's also true that it's even more difficult because it's Julio and even if it's changing, the tension is still there between the two of them even now. "I just want --" 'Star stops himself for a moment. "To not be as intrusive as I am being." He'd return home, even if there was a chance that mutant would come back for him. He'd do it to not be a burden. 'Star smudges some of the not-so-dried blood on his torso with his thumb. "That is all." 

Julio figures it might be best to just drop the whole vending machine/hallway/car shorts issue, at least until ‘Star has cooled down somewhat. And put on pants. Julio is trying very hard not to look. “You’re not…” he sighs, and leans back against the door, sliding down it and coming to rest cross-legged on the floor. “You’re not being intrusive. You’re a total pain in the ass, but you’re not intrusive. I mean, I asked you to stay, didn’t I? And it’s not ‘cause I pity you, or because I have some… I dunno, ulterior motive. I mean, aside from the obvious,” and for once, that’s the furthest thing from his mind. 

“I just -- look, some of the stuff you said to me last night… I dunno if you even remember it, but if you do…” He presses his palm to his forehead, and splays his fingers, and peeks out at ‘Star with what he knows is an anguished expression. “You were right. About -- about how I feel.” He breathes deep, and squeezes his eyes shut. “And it’s screwing with me. Like, a lot. But… whatever, I mean, this is probably all Greek to you.” Pause. “Meaning it’s confusing. You don’t get it. That’s fine. The only thing it should mean to you is that you’re not inconveniencing me by staying here. ‘Least not in the way you think.”

'Star doesn't say anything for a few moments, breaking the silence only when he's had some time to process what he did or didn't say to Julio the night before. "I remember,” he says in hushed tones. "I told you about when I first came to Earth." 'Star looks back up again and right at Julio. "All of that was true.” There is no reason to lie about it now. "I am capable of functioning the way humans do, but I lack the emotions that seem required for... various activities." Or at least that's how he understands it. He's been told that before. 

"I was never in need of them on my home planet and I never had a guide on earth to explain to me what I should be feeling or when I should be feeling it." He's not sure where this sudden honesty comes from, but he supposes it might be because Julio is being honest with him. It's an equivalent exchange. A truth for a truth. "I am not incapable of emotions." 'Star used to think he was engineered to not have them, but he's certainly been feeling something lately. "I believe a correct metaphor in this situation might be -- a puzzle with important pieces missing." He really doesn't know how metaphors work, but he's trying. 

“Yeah, I’m… kinda getting that.” Julio sighs. Over the past week, it has become apparent that many of his previous impressions about ‘Star were incorrect, or at the least, incomplete. He knew that he was ruthless, that he was angry, and that he was strange. He noted ‘Star’s barriers, and the ones he lacked; he paid attention to how he mixed his violence with sex and his sex with violence, and he fell a little bit in love with it. He never once stopped to think about _why._

“I rushed into this,” he admits. “And I don’t regret it, and I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to, but if,” he stops, and worriedly chews on his lip, pulling his bathrobe tighter around himself and crossing his arms in his lap, “if you wanted to stick around -- I mean, if you’re up for… whatever is going on between us -- I could maybe do something about those puzzle pieces.”

'Star blinks at him. "You -- would be my guide?" He doesn't know how to word it any other way and in some ways he wonders if it's not actually too late for him. From what 'Star knows, learning what is the right emotion for when -- truly understanding it all takes humans a lifetime. He doesn't have a lifetime and he wouldn't have had time at all if Julio hadn't saved his life last night. "I am not certain what that entails, but if that is something you wish to do for me..." He's not sure if he's going to regret what he's going to say next. "Then I will do something for you in return. I will replace your pajamas yes, but something else as well. Something of your choice." He almost says _whatever you'd like_ but something stops him. 

Curiously, Julio finds himself compelled to decline the offer entirely. The things he wants from ‘Star (and that’s a lot of things) are not exactly the kind he’d like to receive on obligation. Never let it be said that he’s not specific about the way he likes things to be. Obligation takes the fun out of it; the thrill of the chase, and the victory that comes after it. So let ‘Star come crawling to him, or let him come with blades in his hands and a battle-cry on his lips. Either way he will be conquered, and Julio will have won, and it will be entirely on his own terms and not through any kind of underhandedness. Julio hates contracts, and hates the idea of discussing things, of looking before he leaps.

And -- okay, maybe he’s touched by ‘Star’s story. A little. _Possibly._ But there’s no way he’s going to say it, especially when he can’t even make sense of it himself.

“Take a damn shower,” he grumbles, finally. “That’s what you can do in return. I’ll find you some clothes while you’re in there.”

'Star actually nods and gets up at that, doing what Julio asked for the first time in… well, for the first time at all outside of the context of cutting another man’s head off. He's still naked and covered in dried and drying blood but getting a shower is the first step to rectifying that. "I will attempt to not ruin any more of your towels,” he says before he starts down the hall, stripping his bandages and hissing a little in pain as he does. When he finally gets in front of the mirror to look at himself it's not as bad as he thought it might be. The large cut to his stomach has completely healed over, new skin pink and blotchy but better. His throat is just coated in dried blood and he touches it to find not even a trace of a scratch. Good. He's on his way to recovery the fastest he can be. It's only after 'Star finished examining himself that he finds it suitable to get in the shower, standing still and watching the red mess swirling down the drain with the hot water.

Julio retreats to his bedroom, sparing a glance at his mostly-empty closet before turning his attention to the laundry basket on the bed. He upends it, tipping its contents out onto the mattress, and rifles through it for something appropriate. He finds a miraculously matching pair of socks, a pair of black jeans that were always too long in the leg and too tight around the hips to fit him, a very comfortable t-shirt, and his least incriminating pair of underpants, and carries all of it to the bathroom. He doesn’t knock -- he has his arms full, so all he does is pushes the door open with his hip -- but he does briefly consider it, which is still remarkably conscientious by his standards. “Hope you’re not jerking off,” he calls, almost singing the last two syllables.

As if on cue, 'Star peels back the shower curtain and levels a glare right at Julio, wet hair in his face as he does so. "I am attempting to clean my wounds." They are not really wounds any longer, but he's cleaning them none the less. He still lathered with soap as he closes the shower curtain again. He's disappointed with the selection of soaps and shampoos that Julio has. Everything back at his apartment is fragrant and colorful. This is all so dull. "I want to get my soaps and things from my home when we go collect things. Your assortment is dreadful."

With the shower curtain safely between them, Julio allows himself to smile. “Soaps and things, huh?” he calls out over the sound of the shower, and ‘Star grunts in response. “See, that’s the kind of thing I was talking about. Y’know, the other day, when I was at your apartment.” There is only silence in response this time, so Julio elaborates: “I don’t mean soap, specifically. I mean… the things that you own and keep because you like them, not just because they’re necessary. Not saying that soap isn’t necessary, but fancy soap totally isn’t.” He’s not just talking for an excuse to stick around, although it’s a factor. It’s more that he’s found a loose thread to pull at, and he’s intent on continuing until something unravels. Every time he does it, he sees a little more. 

“I can sympathize. I mean, this place doesn’t look like much, no? I could probably afford to move somewhere better if I didn’t spend so much money on my car.” Julio sighs almost wistfully. “I guess that’s the first missing piece. That there’s no logic in loving stuff, other than that it makes you happy.” He’s feeling oddly philosophical all of a sudden. It might be the exhaustion.

“My soap in my shower smells like lemons and strawberries.” ‘Star elaborates a little. “My shampoo too.” He’s not sure why he feels the need to fill in the blanks after Julio talks, but he does. “Those items and my swords are the only other things besides the tapes that I would like to have back.” He could probably live anywhere and it wouldn’t matter what he used as soap or if there was even a bed there, if he had to. It doesn’t mean that there are not things that he enjoys. They are all small things, things that most people would find insignificant. Things that Julio probably finds insignificant, but he was prompted, so… “There were also boxes of cereal in my kitchen cabinets. I wish to have those as well.” Terrible sugary cereal, but it’s not as if ‘Star’s metabolism cares one way or another what kind of food he is eating. 

_Lemons and strawberries,_ Julio thinks, pressing his hand to his mouth to stop himself smiling even wider. Why has he never smelt ‘Star’s hair before? He keeps it pretty short, which Julio thinks is somewhat of a tragedy. Hell, he can’t even remember if he’s ever touched it. He thinks he’d remember if he had. 

“Okay. Soap, cereal, VHS tapes. I’ll remember. Although --” he catches himself in the process of peeking around the shower curtain, stopping short before he touches it to pull it back. “-- if you’re feeling better, we could go together. How is the, uh, cleaning going?” He’s genuinely concerned. Honestly. He’s been having similar difficulties with his own injured arm.

“It’s mostly healed.” He pulls the curtain back anyway after he’s clean of soap, showing Julio. There is some scabbing at the edges but other than the strange look of new skin branching against old it’s actually alright looking. “The most important thing is that my internal organs are working properly.” Which was a mild concern of his, but it also seems to have sorted itself out in one way or another. Unless Julio’s doctor actually placed his organs back where they were supposed to go, which he highly doubts. “How is your arm?” ‘Star asks with a raise of an eyebrow and his lip twitches just a little with the ghost of a smirk at that. He’s neglected to bring it up and even though something about it makes him feel a little guilty still, he doesn't entirely regret the decision to nail Julio to the wall. 

Julio mirror’s ‘Star’s smirk and raises it by a fraction, rubbing the back of his neck with his non-injured hand as he does. If anyone were to look at them, in public and out of context while they smiled at each other like this, they might assume they were proper lovers. That they were in love, or at least that they’d been together for more than a rushed blowjob and a spur-of-the-moment stabbing. “It was healing just fine until last night,” he admits almost sheepishly. “I’ve been resting it, which helps, but I had to use it to, y’know, carry you to the sofa and replace all the squishy bits.” He wants to make a joke about putting in parts without accidentally setting off the buzzer, but he doubts ‘Star has ever played _Operation_ in his life. “I think it set me back a few steps. Doug told me off for it while he was changing the bandages.”

“I wish to look at it. Your wound.” ‘Star returns to the shower spray one more time and then shuts off the water. When he peels back the curtain entirely there is no trace of blood on him and if Julio didn't know any better he might think that the stomach scarring was from some sort of old wound, not a fresh one. He glances around the bathroom while he stands dripping in the shower. “May I have two towels, please?” He uses one for his body and another for his hair even though it’s not long anymore. It’s just a habit that he got into that he cannot seem to stop even after the haircut. 

Julio hands him two towels -- the last two -- and then sets about unhooking the clasps that hold the ends of his bandages together. He sets them on the side of the sink and then begins to unwind the bandages, starting from the ones around his chest. There’s something strangely intimate about it, at least to him; he is, essentially, slowly undressing for ‘Star, and though he did something similar earlier the fact that ‘Star appears to be _watching_ makes all the difference.

“It’s probably gross,” he mumbles, if only to break the tension. “I mean -- I pulled a couple stitches last night, and Dougie fixed it, but it’s probably still…” he trails off, unwrapping the final section of bandages around his arm and bundling them into the sink. 

“It looks good.” ‘Star surmises after a quick glance, stepping out of the shower completely and wrapping the towel around his head before drying the rest of himself off. He’s careful around his own stomach wound and after he secures the towel around his waist he takes a few steps toward Julio before resting a hand on his shoulder rather gently before leaning in to kiss the stitched-together flesh. “I do hope it leaves a scar though.” He places another gentle kiss at the top of Julio’s shoulder before pulling away entirely. “Your doctor friend seems proficient in his craft, so perhaps not.” Perhaps next time he wants to leave a scar, he will have to hold Julio down and keep him in place while he carves. 

“It will,” Julio breathes, closing his eyes as ‘Star kisses him, suddenly hyper-aware of the sound of his own breathing and his heartbeat. “I scar easily. Look,” he turns around to face ‘Star, standing up straight so that he can be seen. “Look closer.” He’s naked and he’s hard, but he has no qualms about either of these things. How he feels about ‘Star -- or at least, how he feels about being in close proximity to ‘Star just after a shower -- isn’t exactly a secret anymore. 

“You don’t have to worry about leaving a mark. What you should be concerning yourself with,” his tone drops lower, to what would be a smooth, sultry voice if it weren’t for its huskiness, “is covering up all the marks everyone else left on me.”

“I do not think that that is going to be a problem.” ‘Star leans close and licks up Julio’s neck all the way to his ear, humming against the clean taste of skin. He sinks back into that sultry tone of his, these thoughts and actions familiar and comfortable in a way that uncovering all those new emotions are not. “If you could have me do anything to you -- what would it be?” He teases Julio’s earlobe with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, hands wrapping around to press against the shorter man’s lower back. “We’ve been honest with each other thus far and I am very curious about what really is going on inside that head of yours.” ‘Star is gentle as he rubs Julio’s back, his actions and the tone of his voice not matching at all. 

“Anything, huh?” Julio tilts his head, inviting ‘Star to kiss his neck, and makes a tiny, blissful noise at the back of his throat when he does. “God, where do I even begin?” It should be too early on for Julio to be telling ‘Star his fantasies. They haven’t even had sex yet. _That’s_ weird, by Julio’s standards at least. Normally, he gets what he wants by the second date at least, and if he doesn’t, he’s rarely patient enough to stick around. ‘Star is the exception to that rule. ‘Star is the exception to a lot of rules. 

“It’s probably exactly what you think. I like it when you’re rough with me. Not just with the knives.” Honestly, he kind of needs ‘Star to hold off on leaving any more lasting scars until his arm has healed more. There’s only so much he can take before his ability to do his job is compromised (more than it already has been, that is). “I’m pretty easy,” _god, I wish he was better at picking up on innuendo_ , “with stuff like that. You could tie me up, or collar me, or choke me. You could just slap me around a bit, or…” he pauses to lick his lips and to swallow, finding that his mouth is suddenly watering. “I keep thinking back to that belt I left on your bed. Wondering what kind of marks it would leave if you…”

“Why wonder,” ‘Star kisses right back down to Julio’s wounded shoulder before he continues. “When I am certain you have a belt somewhere around here.” Though whether he’ll give Julio exactly what he’s asked for or what he wants at all remains to be seen. 

Sex is certainly unexplored territory between them and the last thing that transpired was a return blow job after they had gotten back from killing those MGH dealers. ‘Star had backed Julio up against his apartment door, unzipped his pants, yanked them down and gone to town on him. It was rather messy, but ‘Star wasn't going for precision, he was letting up pent up arousal from what they had just done together. The sound of Julio’s voice when he commanded him to behead that man… it had annoyed him for a split second but when he actually got a look at Julio after he gave the order he couldn’t help but at least get half hard. 

More than that if he’s honest. 

“I wasn’t done explaining yet,” Julio says. “I don’t mind what you do to me, as long as it hurts, and…” He slips his arms around 'Star's shoulders, moving closer to nuzzle at his neck and kiss the skin just under his jaw. He smells and tastes like the shampoo Julio uses, which is an unexpected turn-on. Julio has left his mark, and 'Star probably doesn't even know it yet. "I want you to fuck me after. I'm ready. I've been ready for months," he almost purrs. "I want you to do it slow, and I'd kinda like you to face me. Do it like you..." _Like you care,_ Julio thinks. _Like you'd give me anything I wanted just to make me happy. Like maybe you loved me._ "... Like you mean it," he says, instead, and maybe that means just about the same thing.

“Would you like me to whip your back with a belt so hard it leaves welts?” ‘Star moans the words as the feeling of Julio’s lips against his neck. “Kiss them after I was done and lay you down on your back -- fucking you nice and slow.” It’s a heady image and it makes ‘Star hard just thinking about it, the towel not doing much to conceal just how he feels about what he’s saying. How he feels about Julio. 

“I do not know if you could handle my cock.” ‘Star’s moan is choked by a short and dark laugh, moving to slide his fingers against Julio’s cheek before pulling him away from his neck and tipping his chin up. “And I'm tempted not to give it to you because I know just how badly you want it.” ‘Star wants it just as badly, but it hasn't quite sunk in yet. 

"I think I can handle a lot more than you're giving me credit for," Julio points out. He knows he doesn't need to convince 'Star, because 'Star wants exactly what he wants. They're on the same page, as usual; 'Star's earlier statement has proven it. Julio is really only playing along. "And I think you don't really care, either way. You left me to bleed out in a stairwell just over a week ago. Am I meant to believe you're actually worried about hurting me when we fuck? You're big, 'Star, but I've had bigger." It's not a lie. "Unless..." he grins, eyes alight with mischief. "Unless you actually are holding back. What, did you grow a conscience overnight? Are you falling for me, Darkstar?"

“Mmm. You give yourself far, far too much credit.” ‘Star leans in and kisses Julio’s lips lightly, gently, before pulling away before grabbing him by the throat and hefting him up as if he weighs nothing. He really doesn't, actually. Not to ‘Star. “But I shouldn't have expected anything less from you. Your arrogance knows no bounds.” 

He slides him up the wall a little further and the towel that had been previously wrapped around his head drops away, leaving damp messy ginger hair in its wake. “I had felt guilty about stabbing you for some reason, but I think that perhaps it wasn't guilt over the action, but guilt over the fact that I neglected to stay and watch you squirm and bleed.” He’s close to Julio’s face, the last words said in a growl. 

"So stay this time," Julio chokes out, still calm and worryingly confident despite his position, and despite the fact that he almost can't breathe. "'Cause you keep running away at the last minute, and it's starting to get on my nerves." It isn't. He likes that as much as anything, but even he has his limits. "Don't chicken out this time. I want you to stay. I want you to prove you're not just all talk." He's taunting him, and part of him knows he's laying it on too heavy, that he's going too far and soon he's going to pay for it. But isn't that what he wants? 

"So you're not afraid to hurt me, but I think you might be afraid to sleep with me. And sure, maybe it'd be fine if you were rough, or if you forced it, or if you didn't have to look at me. But you do. Otherwise, well..." Julio winks. "You're still just running, aren't you?"

'Star tightens his grip after that and snarls, just like the tiger Julio equated him to earlier. "Afraid? You think I am afraid?" He pulls him away from the wall before throwing him out the door and into the hallway with a crunch and a crash. One was probably the door. The other might have been one of Julio's ribs. "Why on earth would I be afraid of you, Julio Richter? Do explain it to me, I would like to hear your explanation." 'Star lets his other towel drop away as he stalks forward, nude and with that wicked scar across his belly. He is intimidating like this, and maybe Julio was a little too spot on with his tiger analogy. 

_Why?_ A whole host of reasons, actually, ranging from the gap in their respective experience to the exact similarities in how ruthless they both are, to the fact that Julio is still grinning. Actually -- even worse -- Julio is _laughing._ He clutches at his ribs, fingertips probing for sore spots and finding only one, just above his stomach. It's bruised at the least, and cracked at the most. He'll get it looked at later. Now, though...

"What on Earth, huh?" he repeats, and then he raises his hand, summons his power, and throws 'Star back against the tiled wall of the bathroom. 

It's with enough force that 'Star can feel the tile crack against the force of it, white spots appearing in his vision if only briefly. He clenches his teeth and then his fists. Perhaps that had been a poor choice of words. His teeth are still rattling with the force of Julio's powers, but it doesn't stop him from smiling. 

"What exactly are you hoping to achieve?" 'Star shakes his head to make the rest of the spots go away. "Do you think you are going to conquer me? Is that the game?" He asks but he knows it already. That's exactly the game and they have both just taken their gloves off, proverbially. 

"I was explaining it to you," Julio says, picking himself up off the ground with a pained grunt. "Just like you asked. Why?" he snarls, balling his hands into fists and letting power flare from them, rolling off them in waves. "Did you need me to keep explaining?" There's a grin on his face, the kind that shows teeth. "'Cause I don't want to, but if I have to I will." He stalks forward, stopping at 'Star's feet and crouching down to look at him closer. 

"I think it might be better," he says, almost softly, cupping 'Star's jaw with his right hand, "if you stopped fucking me around, and just started fucking me. I don't have to keep fighting back... unless of course you want me to." 

“Star swallows hard and meets Julio’s eyes before surging forward and pushing him to the floor, hovering over him for just a moment before crushing his lips against the other man’s. He can feel his stomach scream in pain but he can really bring himself to stop, cock hard and arousal and anger pressing him on. ‘Star’s cock presses hard against Julio’s thigh as he grinds down on him, kisses rough and desperate and just a touch needy. He hasn’t broken yet and he plans on continuing this fight, but he can’t help himself. 

Julio hums in approval, an unashamedly loud moan of a noise; the kind of thing that 'Star will soon learn is typical of him in these situations. "Better," he says, once he pulls away to breathe. "That's better. I don't want to fight you, 'Star." He's touching 'Star's face again, smoothing his hair back from his brow almost tenderly. "Not until you've recovered. Not until you can fight back." He smiles, like it's a promise. He guesses it might be. "Bedroom?"

‘Star doesn’t answer, simply gets to his feet and throws Julio over his shoulder, carrying him past the cracked drywall in the hall and down to his bedroom before depositing him onto his bed. “I broke something. I know I did.” He’s on his knees on the mattress, running his hand over Julio’s stomach and then up his chest before he gets to his shoulder again, pressing against the stitches just enough to cause pain. “I’ll be disappointed if I did not.” He leans in after that, kissing Julio again before spreading his legs with his knees and letting his kisses trail down to his stubble-covered jaw. Julio wants him to be tender, to fuck him like he means it. He can do that. He can lose himself in all of these new feelings if it means that Julio will keep his promise and fight him later. When they are both one hundred percent, as the humans say. 'Star nuzzles against that stubble before taking a deep breath. He smells like leather, ash and something brighter. A scent that 'Star's only smelled on the air when the sun comes out, brilliant and burning. "Going to bury myself so deep inside of you," he murmurs, almost lost in the scent. "Come inside of you." 

_"Please,"_ Julio gasps, bringing his legs up around 'Star's waist and drawing him closer. He closes his eyes in bliss and when he opens them, the room is darker; he can see clouds gathering outside the window. So much for their sunny morning, he thinks, although it was bound to happen eventually. Nothing stays bright here. Nothing stays warm.

"I want you so bad, 'Star," Julio tells him, turning his head so that he's half-mumbling into the pillow. Close up, he has a thin, pale scar running along his left cheekbone, and his nose and cheeks are lightly freckled -- not obvious like 'Star's, but barely visible, almost like a secret. His smile is far too handsome in contrast to the dark circles under his eyes and the unkemptness of his facial hair. "It's been so long for me," he continues in a low voice, as though he's making a confession. "I mean -- I tried being with other people, but since I met you I haven't been able to think of anyone else. I called out your name, once," he admits, with a chuckle. "After that I stopped going after people I thought I could pretend were you. Figured it wasn't working anyway. There's no quick fix for this, I guess." He pauses. "Is that too much?"

"Keep talking," 'Star never thought he'd be saying that to Julio, but he is. Something in the other man's voice just seeps into him and makes him so aroused he can hardly stand it. "And tell me where your belts are." He hasn't forgot about his earlier promise and wouldn't want to give Julio one thing he asked for without the other. He remembers the crack of leather from when Julio removed his own belt almost a week ago. He must have been craving this since then -- and that desire has only intensified since. 'Star nuzzles that stubble one last time before he pulls away completely. 

“Uh,” Julio pauses to think, “they _should_ be in the closet, but you’re more likely to find them on the floor somewhere.” ‘Star raises an eyebrow at him. _Hey,_ he thinks, just barely biting back the urge to say it out loud, _at least I have stuff to leave around._ ‘Star begins searching for a belt, and Julio settles back against the pillows, waiting for ‘Star to tell him where to move. 

“Have you done this before? ‘Cause I have, but somehow I just know it’s gonna be better with you.” It’s hard to tell, with ‘Star. In some areas (kissing, and the way he talks, and the things he does with his hands sometimes) he seems so experienced, so devastatingly talented. In others (Julio isn’t only thinking of the emotional angle, but also of the blowjob he received the other night, which was amazing, but only for ‘Star’s enthusiasm. Otherwise… _well_ ), he seems so behind that Julio wonders whether he has any experience at all. Julio can’t decide which of these things he finds the hottest. He’s always had a thing for firsts; it might have something to do with the idea of being remembered. 

“You’ve been thinking about it as well, haven’t you? I can tell.” He always smiles the most when ‘Star isn’t looking; not the grin he wore earlier, when he was ready to throw ‘Star back through the wall, but something smaller and more fond. Something that’s more dangerous to him than it is to ‘Star, most likely, and that’s why he won’t let him see it. “Makes me wonder, though. Were you thinking about it ‘cause you wanted to do it to me, or ‘cause you wanted me to do it to you?”

When 'Star returns from rummaging around, he's got two belts in his hands. One brown leather and one black. "I was thinking of it because --" He lays one on the bed next to Julio and then starts working with the other, slipping the end through the buckle and looping it into a wide hole before slipping it around his own neck and pulling it tight. 

He's still holding the other end and has yet to finish his sentence. "I had something I want you to do to me." 'Star is capable of hurting Julio, yes, but is the other man capable of giving back as well as he can take it? He shuffles forward on the bed before he's hovering above Julio again, handing him the end of the belt that's now been fashioned into a crude version of a collar and leash. "You can choke me with this, keep me in place, whatever you see fit. As long as you use it while you're whipping me." 'Star leans down and sucks one of Julio's nipples into his mouth. "Give me what I want before I give you what you need." it's a very dangerous proposition, but he's testing Julio.

“You first, huh?” Aside from raising an eyebrow, and the way his eyes light up, Julio shows little response. “Okay.” He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, and pats his knee. “I’m gonna get you to bend over my lap. Does that work for you?” He wonders, strangely not for the first time, what kind of verbal response ‘Star might have to this. The man seems to run entirely on threats and cheesy (but frustratingly still attractive) porn dialogue; the threats probably won’t stand in this particular situation. And more importantly, what’s going through his head right now? What purpose would somebody like ‘Star have for a makeshift collar, or for a belt across his back? 

What Julio is forgetting is that sex, violence and control are all intrinsically linked in 'Star's mind. And Julio -- well, Julio has show than he's worthy not just in battle, but skilled in other ways as well. 'Star crawls over to him, leaning close to his ear before actually doing anything else. "It made me hard when you ordered me to cut off that dealer’s head." It's a dark whisper before he kisses Julio's ear gently. "When you whip me, tell me what a good job I've done. What you'd like to see me do." He's deadly serious, finally moving away and splaying out over Julio's lap. 

_That_ warrants a reaction. That grin creeps back across Julio’s face, the one from before. “I can do that,” he tells him, no longer bothering to mask his enthusiasm. It would be pointless if he did, given that ‘Star is lying across his lap. “You have to earn it, though,” he adds, lowering his voice to a level that’s barely audible but can be felt in the movement of his chest; a rumble or a vibration, not dissimilar to that of his powers. “Make up for what you did before. Be good,” he reaches to the side and picks up the belt, “and you’ll be rewarded.”

_Be good._ 'Star doesn't really know what that entails, but he's more than willing if it gets him what he wants. "Certainly, Julio." It's compliance and it's not even laced with any type of challenge. 'Star lays stomach facing down, his hardness pressing against Julio's thigh as he starts to pepper the top of his leg with kisses, short but warm and worshipful. Give Julio what he wants to get what he desires in return, it's not difficult to go along as long as those are the rules. 'Star shifts and pushes his ass up into the air, mostly to give himself more room to kiss but also to give Julio a good view of the curve of his back and ass. 

“Good,” Julio purrs, taking a moment to stroke ‘Star’s hair, which is unusually ( _inhumanly?_ ) soft under his fingertips, before moving to grasp the belt around his neck. “I’m not gonna choke you,” he explains, gentle but certain. “Not unless you’re bad. But you’re not going to be bad, are you? You’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to take this, and you’re going to thank me for it. I’m only holding this,” he winds the free end of the belt around his hand, but doesn’t pull it any tighter, “to keep you here, where you belong.” 

It’s funny -- if ‘Star wanted to pull away from him, he wouldn’t stand a chance in trying to hold him back. This is more symbolic. It doesn’t matter that ‘Star could break away if he wanted to. What matters is that Julio knows he won’t. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he whispers, “and don’t keep quiet when I start.”

"I am going to be good." 'Star repeats, still kissing Julio's thigh, getting messier as he goes. He arches his back just a little further, almost wiggling his ass before he returns to what he was doing, using his tongue to worship but careful to stay away from teeth. Part of him wants to sink them into Julio's leg but he won't. He's showing restraint; he is being good. "I am ready," he whispers out a few minutes later. "Please begin, Julio." 

Dimly, it occurs to Julio that the worse he is with this -- the more he pushes, and the more harm he does, and the more he teases -- the worse ‘Star will be with him when it’s his own turn. Or perhaps the better? Julio still isn’t sure what ‘Star is getting out of this. Is this just making him angrier, fuelling the fire that drives him to lash out so much, or is his current demeanor of calmness actually genuine? Is he laying a trap, waiting to snap back at Julio with twice the fury, or will he react with something new? Julio has done this before, and every time he did, it took time for his partner to come out of whatever headspace it brought them to. There’s usually a debriefing. Aftercare. Cuddles. Does ‘Star not need or expect any of those things, or is it just that he won’t know how much he needs them until it happens?

He can’t stop to think about it any longer. He’s wasted too much time already, even if it is fun watching ‘Star squirm in anticipation. Julio folds the belt over in his hand and raises his arm, lining up the angle. “Alright,” he says softly, then brings the belt down across ‘Star’s ass.

It's harder than 'Star anticipated and he jerks up with a yelp with it happens, half in surprise and half in pain. Truth be told, 'Star is living in the moment, overcome by the arousal from the previous fight they just had and the thought of Julio actually whipping him and tell him of all the bloody things they could do together. Of all the things Julio could tell him to do. He bites his bottom lip the next time the belt comes down but it doesn't stifle the moan that comes out. Julio wants him to be vocal, he can do that. He could take so much more pain, but with his wounds as they still are, this is just perfect. 

“Keep doing that,” Julio encourages him. The noise ‘Star makes when he brings the belt down for a third time sends a shiver down his spine, and he echoes it, pushing his hips up, desperate for friction between his cock and ‘Star’s skin. “God, you sound good. It’s almost like music.” ‘Star’s voice is -- well, the term that came to mind when Julio first heard it was _totally dreamy,_ and Julio stands by that. There’s something unmistakably Hollywood about it, whether it be his accent or his expression or maybe just the idea of a voice like that coming from somebody who looks like he does (also totally dreamy, Julio thinks), and his pitch is much deeper than Julio’s. Julio briefly entertains the thought of ‘Star singing, maybe in the shower or when he’s drunk, like Julio does, because he’d certainly have a great voice, but -- no. That’s unimaginable, even for him.

“There are marks already,” he appreciates, and there are, pink welts against the milky-white of ‘Star’s skin. _It must be because his healing factor is shot,_ Julio realizes, and doesn’t feel as bad about it as he probably should. He’s glad he’s doing this now, instead of later; he might not get another chance to leave such lasting marks.

"It's not impossible to---" 'Star groans again when there is another smack of leather against skin. "Leave marks--" Especially now because his healing factor _is_ shot, at least for now. "Leave as many marks as you can -- talk to me -- please, Julio. Tell me about what you'd order me to do." He's serious and the time of his voice is almost begging for it. This isn't a trap, this is something that 'Star wants so badly. He is too wrapped up in everything to even think about retaliation right now. Maybe later in the afterglow, maybe when his mind starts working properly again, maybe then he'll plan out his torture for Julio. Think about laying him out and cutting his skin and making him bleed and tasting him so intimately and deeply. He won't make the mistake of leaving again.

“Yeah,” Julio hisses through his teeth. “Beg for it, ‘Star, that’s… that’s perfect. _You’re_ perfect. You look so good like that, and it kills me to think that I don’t have long enough to look.” He’s hitting harder now, putting force behind his motions so that each hit will stand out against the ache of the last. “Can I keep you here until it fades? Or at least,” he interrupts himself with a sharp intake of breath as ‘Star presses down against him, “keep you close. Just for a little while. I’ve got a job to do in two days time, and I could definitely…” He pauses again, making a muffled noise that doesn’t really escape his throat as he pulls his arm back further, and hits even harder. “I could definitely use you,” he finishes, and those last words can’t be a coincidence.

The next time Julio hits 'Star with that belt he calls out louder than he had previously, cock so hard and breathing a bit labored. "Use me as you see fit. I need it --" It's not a lie, it's not something he's put on for this scenario alone. Working by himself is one thing, working with Julio is completely another. They fall into a rhythm, some sort of synchronicity that 'Star can't even begin to explain. 'Star remembers most starkly the smiles and smirks they shared while threatening harm and finally the feeling that coursed through his veins as he watched the anger bubble up in Julio while talking to their target. There is something beautiful about it, about being filled with so much rage and knowing exactly where to direct it. Being so sure and confident. It annoys him in a way yes, but strictly because overconfidence can be a fatal flaw. 

"Would you kill for me?" Julio is feeding the fire, drawing moans from 'Star's throat and confessions from his lips. "You seemed to like it a lot the first time. That was so -- _mm_ \-- so good. You didn't even hesitate. You just followed me. I like -- no, I _love_ that about you. Love that you're out of control most of the time, except..." he brings the belt down, one final stroke, and definitely the hardest yet. 

"Except with me," Julio pants, and lets the belt slip from his fingers onto the floor. "Oh, 'Star," he breathes, voice almost hoarse with exertion. "You're amazing. You did so well," he praises him, reaching to release the belt around his neck once he's caught his breath. "Come up here and let me thank you properly."

'Star hasn't forgotten the rest of what Julio said and when he moves up, free of the leash he kisses him straight away. Something slow and burning and when he pulls away, hissing just slightly with pain, he thanks him. "Thank you, Julio." He almost whines it out, peppering kisses up the other man's cheek until he gets to his ear. "Thank you for telling me how I can serve you." His breath his hot against Julio's ear and it's clear that even with the belt gone, 'Star is still stuck in that headspace. His hand moves to grip them both, pressing their cocks together with a gasp. "May I?" He's asking permission, waiting for Julio to tell him. If the other man wants the same treatment he gave 'Star, he's going to have to poke and prod until 'Star gets irritated again. 

“‘Course you can,” Julio gives him permission, as well as an appreciative kiss to his neck. He is still so, so curious about this, but he can’t shake the feeling that asking about it would break whatever proverbial spell ‘Star is currently under, and he doesn’t want that. Because ‘Star doesn’t seem to be finished yet. “Hey, so,” he says in hushed tones as ‘Star begins to stroke them together. He has really nice hands, Julio thinks as he glances down. “I know I asked you to do me, but if you’re still --” _If you’re still in whatever mindset you’re in right now. If you’re still acting like you want to come crawling to me, like you’d listen to anything I said, like…_ “I mean, if you want to keep going like this,” he decides on the words just as carefully as he says them, “maybe you could ride me.” He pauses, waiting to see ‘Star’s reaction, then can’t help but add: “That’s if it doesn’t already hurt too much.”

'Star hums at that and seems not to be shaken out of whatever mood he's fallen under. "Is that what you'd like?" He moans it against Julio's neck as he strokes them both. "To be buried inside of me -- or is it that you want to see my hips move?" Even if Julio asked 'Star what has gotten into him he wouldn't know how to answer that, wouldn't even know where to begin or how to explore these feelings. He's just going with it and in his current state, physically or otherwise it's much easier not to fight. "Just tell me what to do. Anything you'd like." 'Star drags his tongue up Julio's neck to his ear again before sucking the lobe into his mouth and pulling on it just slightly.

"All of the above," Julio says, much calmer than he feels. This is surreal. This is all so sudden. This is --

"Perfect," Julio repeats. "That sounds perfect. Just like you." He takes 'Star's face in his hands and guides him in for a kiss, gentle and almost chaste, before pulling back and nudging him off. "There's stuff in the dresser beside the bed," he instructs. "Bring it to me." He waits for 'Star to begin carrying out his orders before he continues. "I'm going to use it on myself, but I'm not gonna prep you. 'Cause, y'know, I think you can take it. You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" 

'Star places the lube in Julio's hand before he leans in to kiss his cheek softly, moving down to his lips. "If that is what you wish--" 'Star pulls back and grins dangerously. "I will be happy to comply. Happy to have your cock buried inside of me. Please, Julio." 'Star squirms in Julio's lap, licking his lips as he stares at him. Something about him has invaded his mind, washed over him in the moment and now he's drowning and can't come up for air. His heart feels tight in his chest and aches with anticipation for exactly what it will feel like when Julio's cock is inside of him. 

Julio slicks himself until he's dripping. It's merciful, almost -- he wants 'Star to feel this, and to keep feeling it for hours after he's done, but he doesn't want to hurt him too badly. As far as he's concerned, he's already left enough of a mark. "Since you asked so nicely," he says, holding himself in one hand and grasping 'Star's hip with the other, thumb idly tracing circles on his hipbone. He guides 'Star down onto his cock, whispering encouragements and praise into his ear as he does. 

At first, as Julio is entering him it almost feels like too much. Between the pain and ache of the welts on his ass and the feeling of liquid heat as he's entered he can't do much else but moan. It's loud and unabashed and 'Star can feel Julio's breath on his ear and the silky dark tone of his voice in his mind. He might consider himself the predator, but right now Julio is certainly fulfilling that role, exerting his dominance but at the end of the day -- it's all because 'Star is letting him. 'Star is in control and Julio should know that if it weren't for the fact that he's allowing all this, none of it would be happening. If he doesn't, well 'Star will be happy to make sure he figures it out after all of this. 

"You okay?" Julio asks, mumbling the words against his collarbone. He can feel 'Star shiver when he does it, trembling from his shoulders to his thighs. "C'mon, you can do it. You're halfway there already." He has both of his hands on 'Star's hips now, and he's fixated on the sight of it -- the contrast between his own hands and the near-luminescent paleness of 'Star's skin, and the way white turns to pink and then almost red at the tip of his cock. He was right, then, in his recollections of last time. Those are definitely freckles, in places the sun shouldn't have touched. Julio is beginning to suspect that the incident in the hallway was just one of a number of public indecency-related incidents. "God, you feel amazing," Julio sighs, pressing his lips to 'Star's chest. 

'Star doesn't dignify the first question with a response, he is alright, but he feels so full that the only thing that escapes his lips is an odd growl of a moan. Almost there, yet the burn and the heat and the pulsing feeling in his gut attempt to tell him that he's not going to make it all the way, that he's going to come very soon because Julio is going to slide in all the way and it's going to be over. 'Star is built for stamina, but this is the first time anyone has ever been inside of him like this. The first time he's ever been with anyone like Julio. It's most likely best if he doesn't know that, doesn't get the pleasure of knowing he's the first person to fuck him like this… but something tells 'Star that he's going to figure out sooner or later anyway. "Very -- close --" It's a warning as he sinks down the rest of the way, taking a deep breath and screwing his eyes shut as Julio finally slides into him properly.

Julio swears, a string of hissed curses in English and Spanish and something else 'Star doesn't recognise. 'Star is so tight it almost hurts; he can't even begin to imagine how it must feel for him. "Breathe deep," he advises, catching his own breath between words. "It'll help you relax more." He's not sure why he's explaining this. 'Star must already know. Perhaps it's in keeping with the rest of the instructions he has given. 'Star, of course, listens, and Julio thanks him for it with a kiss. "Okay," he says, so low it's almost a whisper. He releases his hold on 'Star's hip and moves to touch his cock, gripping it tight around the base instead of stroking it. He knows 'Star is close, but it isn't time yet. If 'Star wants to come, he'll have to work for it. "You can move," Julio tells him softly, "at your own pace."

He could, but 'Star almost feels like he's stuck, that despite Julio's grip on him if he moves he's just going to come and then --

'Star swallows hard and takes another breath, the urge to slap Julio's hand away from his cock dissipating when he finally does manages to move a little, seeing stars in his vision when he does. It sends a rush of pure pleasure up his spine that makes his whole body tense, mind telling him to keep doing that and to ignore that throbbing ache between his legs. Dimly, somewhere in the back of his mind where his thoughts are still logical he knows that Julio is only gripping him like this to prevent him from coming, to stop this from ending, but it's mostly lost in the sea of pleasure everything else is awash in. "Julio," 'Star calls his name when he moves next, cock sliding out of him just a little before it moves back in. "Your cock is so good --" He rolls his hips this time, moving up and then down and leaning far enough back that Julio can see himself slide in and out of 'Star as he rides him. 

"Mmh --" Julio stifles a moan against 'Star's chest, teeth grazing his nipple as he moves his mouth. "You've got moves, 'Star," he comments, voice stark with adoration. He didn't think anyone did that outside of porn, but then, maybe 'Star gets more than his dirty one-liners from the after dark channel. If he didn't know better, he'd guess that 'Star might have, _uh_ , starred in a few films of his own, but he does. His experience doesn't match up. He's flexible because he's an athlete; any potential bedroom applications of his skills are just a coincidence. "Talk to me. Tell me how it feels."

"It..." 'Star can barely get the words out as he starts that rhythm, pain fading completely as sparks of pleasure move through his body. "Feels as if I am melting inside." It's not element, but it's the truth and the more he move, the brighter and deeper the sensation gets the more he can feel his thoughts wash away. "Want you to fill me up, Julio. Come inside and then fuck me more." 'Stars mind is pulling those words from somewhere, from the last time he had sex perhaps, but they were not his words but the words spilling from the woman he had slept with. He's putting on a show now, body adjusted the fact that he's not going to be coming anytime soon. He's lifting himself off of Julio's cock almost completely now before sinking back down with a loud moan and looking positively slutty while doing it. 

"I can do that," Julio says, with a grin. He tightens his grip on 'Star's waist, one hand still tightly on his cock, and tugs him down, quickening their pace and lifting his own hips to fuck 'Star harder. It hurts, and badly -- every movement sends pain tearing across from his injured rib and the wound in his shoulder to the entire left side of his torso, and half his gasps are just as much in pain as they are in pleasure. It doesn't matter. If anything, it just makes this better for him, sets fire to every nerve in his body until he can't stand it anymore. He comes hard, and he calls 'Star's name, and then he holds him there, keeping him on his cock for almost a minute after he stops. It feels almost cruel to keep 'Star from coming with him, but 'Star made a request, and Julio intends to honor it.

"Not done," he pants. "Don't worry. Climb off me and get on your hands and knees on the bed. I think you're gonna like this."

'Star's eyes are wide and the ache in his cock is so terrible, come leaking out of him and so apparent while Julio keeps him still on his cock. He's shaking with pent up arousal and not entirely sure what Julio has planned, but he complies anyway. He's sliding against the sheets without a second thought and hiking his ass up in the air, come leaking down his thighs. It's a dirty sight and not something far removed from a porno, 'Star even slides his shaking hands down the backs of his thighs and spreads them a little wider. "Talk to me while you do… whatever it is you're going to do."

“That… could be a problem,” Julio says, with a short puff of breath that might have been a laugh. ‘Star feels it against his thigh. It should be obvious. Maybe ‘Star is playing at innocence -- not that there’s anything even remotely innocent about the way he looks right now -- or maybe this is actually…

_Now, there’s a thought,_ Julio muses as he leans in closer and flicks his tongue out to lick at the come on ‘Star’s thigh. He starts on the right, all the way up over ‘Star’s fingers and right to the outline of his ass, before pulling away and moving to the left. It’s only when both thighs are clean that he moves further, softly kissing the welts on both cheeks before carefully spreading them and beginning to lick.

_Filthy_ is the only word that comes to 'Star's mind once Julio starts, gritting his teeth because he's so sensitive and barely keeping himself up because his legs are quivering so badly. He's usually not like this. He's usually so in control, but right now, at this very moment, perhaps Julio has won. "Feels -- so good, Julio. I need to come -- please --" The wetness between his cheeks and the sounds he can hear are pushing him over the edge, in fact, he might have been at the edge before and now he's barely hanging on. His grip on everything is slipping. 

Julio slips his tongue in at exactly the same time he reaches around to touch ‘Star’s cock. He licks and strokes in unison, fucking ‘Star deep with his tongue and tasting himself there as he slowly brings him to climax. ‘Star sounds, feels and looks utterly desperate, all shivers and whines and pleading words, and Julio knows he should be merciful but he only wants more. He’s showing off and he knows it, and he thinks he might be getting just as much out of this as ‘Star is even if he finished minutes ago.

“If you scream,” Julio murmurs, pulling his tongue back but keeping his face close, “make it my name.” He lets power gather in his fingertips, something so small it wouldn’t be visible but by no means insignificant; a gentle buzz at what he’s found (from personal use, mostly) is a very pleasing frequency. Then he draws his lips away and fills the space with two fingers instead. 

'Star is coming in an instant, screaming, choked at first to try and prevent in and then he can't. It's Julio's name, loud and clear and then he's gasping for breath as he collapses on the bed, sheets and chest sticky with his own come. He's melted, whole body feeling liquid in the afterglow of his orgasm, all pain gone in the face of such tremendous built up pleasure

Julio kisses his way from the backs of ‘Star’s legs right up to his shoulders, stopping midway to kiss the red marks on his ass again, and then he flops down in exhaustion, covering ‘Star’s body with his own and uttering a blissful sigh. He feels somehow heavier, like he always does after coming; like he could melt into a puddle or sink right through the bed and the floor and merge with the earth. For now, he’ll settle for resting his weight on ‘Star’s back, arms and legs loosely to either side of him and chin nestled comfortably on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he breaks the silence after a minute or so, voice quiet and heavy with sleep. “You did great just before.” He kisses ‘Star’s ear. “Not bad at all for a first-timer.” 

'Star swallows hard, dread welling up in the pit of his stomach at that comment. Julio knows, he knows that he was his first -- or at least his first in that manner. "I hate you,” 'Star mumbles into the bed and it's probably the furthest thing from the truth right now. He can hardly move and his body aches from his recovering wounds and the new welts on his ass. "I -- you were not my very first --" He's blushing and it's such a good thing that Julio cannot see his face. _How embarrassing._

"I knew it," Julio smiles against 'Star's skin. "Or I had a hunch, and you just confirmed it." He chuckles. "Sorry," he adds, as an afterthought. "I meant what I said, though. You were good. This was..." he trails off into a yawn, which he muffles against 'Star's shoulder. It's as though he's suddenly remembered how little sleep he's had, and his body has remembered with him. "This was good. Um. Thank you." It doesn't seem like enough. "I'm, y'know, honored." He doesn't think he'll be able to stop smiling about this for at least a week. 

_You should be._ Or at least that's what 'Star wants to say. He doesn't however, instead sighing against the sheets and becoming acutely aware of how sticky he is. "You need some rest, Julio. Proper rest." He grunts as he moves, rolling the smaller man off of him and onto the pillows before pushing himself up and examining the stained sheets. "Hold on." He lifts Julio up, gentler this time, cradling him against his chest as he strips the ruined blanket off the bed before placing him down on the clean sheets. "That should be better for you." He's still messy, but at least this way Julio can sleep. 

"'Kay," Julio mumbles, yawning again. It's a struggle to keep his eyes open already, but he manages, gazing up at 'Star as he talks. "'M gonna be out for like... I dunno, hours, probably. I don't know how much you need to sleep, or even _if_ you need to sleep, 'side from when you're hurt, so don't freak out and assume I'm dead or anything if I'm not up in a couple hours. God, I feel wrecked." He turns on his side, snuggling up to the pillow. "Just... chill, in the meantime. Watch Netflix. Eat the rest of those pastries. Don't go outside the apartment if you're naked. We'll go get your stuff when I wake up -- I figured I'd drive over, 'cause you shouldn't have to carry everything on your own." 'Star gives him a very stern look, and he relents. "Okay. Gonna sleep now. Be good."

'Star opens his mouth to say something, but Julio is very much asleep by the time he looks back over, snoring softly against the pillows. "What is Netflix…?" He sits back against the bed and pouts for a moment in a very real way, a way that Julio has never seen and probably will never see if 'Star has anything to say about it. He supposes that he can sit and watch Julio sleep or he could go out and watch TV and maybe try and use whatever Netflix is. Oh -- maybe that bag of pastries Julio picked up has those little mini chocolate croissants inside. He very much likes those. After watching Julio for a few moments he gets up and saunters out of his room to investigate the bag of food. 

Perhaps he could get used to this.


	4. Luz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys officially move in together.

Julio probably shouldn't be driving given the condition his arm is in, but it's been too long. 

"Her name is Luz," he says, fondly caressing the steering wheel as he revs the engine. "The bike is Lucero. Don't tell her, but Luz is my main girl." Luz is a Dodge Challenger, with red paint and black stripes and the kind of engine power that makes 'Star's teeth rattle when Julio starts the car. Julio, conversely, seems mostly unaffected. He's always figured it's a side effect of his powers. "Put your seatbelt on," he advises 'Star, a second before he guns the engine and screeches out of the parking lot. 

“Is --” ‘Star stops when Julio peals out of the parking lot, finally clicking his seatbelt on and making a face at how unnecessarily fast Julio seems intent on going. “Is naming your vehicle's really necessary? And why would I speak to inanimate objects? They are incapable of feeling jealousy.” He is being very literal, but something about the way that Julio treats his car is strange and he noticed the moment he got close to the car, some sort of odd tenseness radiating off of the other man. Julio wouldn’t even let him open the door himself and he’s very certain it wasn’t due to any notions of chivalry. ‘Star doubts Julio even knows what that word means. 

" _Ay,_ don't talk about her like that," Julio admonishes, petting the dashboard as though to apologize before gripping the wheel with both hands and cutting across the parallel lane to turn into a side street. "'Sides, does she seem inanimate to you?" He's raising his voice over the rumble of the engine and the cacophony of horns sounding from the lane behind them. He turns the next corner far more smoothly, pulling a graceful arc that sends water splashing from the gutter like a fountain beside them. The spray doesn't seem to touch Luz's windows, as though it too is aware of the consequences of messing with Julio's main girl. 

The answer to that question is yes, because although the color and even the inside are very pleasurable to look at 'Star doesn't know exactly what one does with a car besides drive it. "I get around just fine without a car. Its use seems minimal." And he refuses to actually call it by the name Julio has picked out for it. 'Star sighs and looks down at the leather seat, examining the stitching before noticing one little popped thread. He wonders if Julio knows it's there. "You seem to treat it as if you'd have sexual relations with it." 'Star smirks after his comment, thinking it quite humorous as he moves his hand to pick at that loose stitch. 

Julio reaches out, reflexes lightning fast, and slaps 'Star's wrist hard enough to leave a mark. "Don't pick at that," he snaps, glancing at 'Star in warning before turning back to watch the road. "And don't laugh. You're probably just jealous 'cause she's a better ride than you." He's just being facetious. He suspects that, once he has an experience to compare, they'll be about equal. "Honestly though, no. It's not like that between us. Me and Luz flirt a lot, but we're just platonic." Having sexual relations in the car is a different story.

Or it might be, if Julio would let anything like that happen even remotely near this car. Which he wouldn't. Ever. He has one particularly prominent fantasy involving being bent over the hood, face pressed against the immaculate paintwork while he's fucked from behind, and another about steaming up the windows from the back seat, but those are only thoughts. There's no way he'd ever defile his car like that.

'Star clenches his fists, ready to bloody Julio's nose for even thinking about slapping his wrist for such a thing but manages to reel himself in before he does. Hitting him like that while driving is probably extremely unsafe, which is while he'll wait to do it when they stop. Or, he'll just add that to the growing list of things that he's going to pay the man back for when they have sex again. When 'Star is back to a hundred percent. "You are lucky that I need you to drive or I would throw you out of the car for that." His eyes are narrowed as he rubs his wrist and maybe he's pouting a little at Julio's other comment. "And if you see fit to compare my sexual prowess to that of what your vehicle might be, then I suppose we need never have sex again." 'Star crosses his arms across his chest, thinking about all the ways he could ruin Julio's precious Luz. 

Julio lets out a bark of laughter. "You _are_ jealous," he exclaims, grinning wickedly. "I'm sorry, _querido_ , but if you want me all to yourself, you might have to tie me down to keep me there." That's a barefaced lie. Not the part about tying him down but the other bit. He is, unusually and more suddenly than is characteristic for him, utterly devoted and happily monogamous. To 'Star. Who just threatened to throw him out of a moving vehicle.

Julio sighs dreamily, and runs a red light without even blinking. "You're just a couple blocks away, no? Any idea where I could park?"

"I do not own a car, how would I know where you could park?" 'Star is still irritated, prickly around the edges but Julio seems for some reason to actually enjoy that. He finally turns to look at him after a few moments of silence. "People seem to park across the street, outside of my building. That is all I know." Or at least that is what he observed the times he stood by the window and just watched people walk or drive around. In fact, it's a small wonder that 'Star even gave Julio that information. He's still letting that comment about being jealous fester. 

“And that’s all I needed to know,” Julio counters, swerving into the lane beside them to turn. Coming up on ‘Star’s apartment building he notices police tape surrounding the front door to the small lobby. He frowns, inspecting the immediate area for cops or onlookers, but sees nobody.

Still. “We should go up via the fire escape. Do you have a key to your window, or did you leave it open again like last time?” If it’s the latter Julio should be able to break in with relative ease but that’s a skill he’d rather keep a secret, even from ‘Star. He parks, reversing in between two other cars with surprising precision and turns the key to switch off the engine. He briefly considers tugging off his gloves (he wears them when he drives, though they double as part of his uniform) before remembering that ‘Star’s apartment is, apparently, a crime scene.   
“Have you got gloves?” He lifts an eyebrow at ‘Star. “If not, there might be some in the, uh… the glove box.” He must be the only person in the world who actually keeps gloves there. 

"Why? I am going to go up, collect what I need and then leave. No one will stand in my way to do so." 'Star glares at him. "The window is open," Because before he decided it was time to attempt rest, 'Star wanted to listen to the rain. Sometimes it actually calms his more violent moods. "So upon your request we will enter through it, but there is no reason to wear gloves." He doubts any type of glove that Julio has, unless they are of the medical variety, will even fit his hands. 'Star glances at the sidewalk and then up to the lobby steps to the window. There is a trail of blood leading down it but it looks like the rain may have washed the rest of it away thankfully. Technically speaking the police could collect his blood and attempt to run a trace on a sample, but that would lead them to a dead end. 'Star is a ghost as far as the police database is concerned. The Internet is another story entirely.

"So what? You didn't have a name on the lease?" Julio throws his hands up incredulously. "Next thing you'll be telling me you don't actually have any fingerprints." When 'Star doesn't answer with anything more than silence and a stare Julio shrugs and drops the subject. He climbs out of the car and walks around the front to open 'Star's door for him. It's raining again, a light yet freezing drizzle that makes Julio wish he'd worn a jacket. As it stands he has the jeans from that morning and a fresh t-shirt, something offensively gaudy he picked up from a tourist spot in Mexico. It's his only souvenir from his trip back, aside from a cool but confusing codename that he's since stopped using and an ongoing guilt/rage complex. And Luz, of course.

"Well," he says, once he's closed and locked the door behind 'Star. "Lead the way."

'Star stands in front of Julio for a few moments, an interesting sight dressed in jeans that are a little too tight for him and one of Julio's tee shirts. He weighs his options for a moment while staring at the other man before reeling back and punching him right in the jaw before walking past him and across the street for earlier. "Do not slap my hand like a child again," he hisses, loud enough as he goes for Julio to hear it. He held back so there is no risk that he broke Julio's jaw, even if he wanted to. Very badly.

'Star stands at the back of his building, looking up the fire escape for a moment before starting his climb. He's got a vague idea where his window is, but he might need Julio's help in locating it properly. It's not as if he's ever climbed through it. 

“Why?” Julio calls out, words slightly slurred from the immediate swelling in his jaw. He climbs after ‘Star, staying far enough behind that ‘Star won’t be able to try and kick him if he angers him again. Which he will. Probably on purpose. “‘Cause a couple of hours ago, you were all over that.” He’s still itching for an explanation for ‘Star’s sudden shift in temperament but he knows he’s lost his opportunity to ask, at least for now. Poking at it now will only cause ‘Star to clam up entirely. He’s content to drop it, for now; to file all his theories and accompanying questions away for when ‘Star is less on edge. The only thing that will keep weighing on his mind is the gut-twisting suspicion that ‘Star might be regretting it. Julio is awful in a lot of ways and he knows it, but that’s a limit. He wants to be remembered -- craves it, feeds off it -- but not like this. Not as a bad decision.

He’ll make it up to ‘Star, somehow, if that’s the case. He can start by helping him move all his VHS tapes and cereal and fancy soaps.

He thinks one of his teeth might be loose.

'Star doesn't regret it, not in the least, but explaining what kind of strange emotion or state of mind washed over him is going to be very strange. He's really not even sure what it was or what happened. It just did. 

"Stop pouting." 'Star calls from his position on the fire escape as he notices that Julio has not started his climb up or at least is staying a distance away from him. "I need your help locating my window--" Once they get his things and they put his soap and his cereal in Julio's house, maybe he'll feel a little more at ease. 

“Keep climbing,” Julio tells him, insistent on keeping his distance. He’d be lagging behind even if he wasn’t; his ribs hurt like hell, and the climbing doesn’t help. Maybe he should have waited in the car just to make a point.

_C’mon, Juli,_ he tells himself, gritting his teeth as he continues to climb. _Remember how sympathetic you were last night? Try to think of that instead of your ribs. Or your jaw. Or your arm._

_Or your ego._ “Just a couple more floors,” he tells ‘Star, wincing as his foot slips and he catches the handrail just in time. Good thing he isn’t afraid of heights. 

'Star lets out a very audible sigh before he pulls himself up on the ledge and then turns around to offer Julio a hand and some help up. "I am not going to kick or push you down the fire escape to the concrete." He might have thought about it for a moment, but for right now he's left enough of a mark on him. His shoulder is one, his rib another and lastly his swollen jaw. It's quite the trifecta. 'Star waits there until Julio actually grabs his hand before hefting him up over him. "And you should get your doctor friend to look at your rib, I probably cracked it." He says it with a nonchalance as if what he was speaking about was a broken plate or shattered coffee mug. "Things will be better once we gather my things." 

If there is anything left to gather, that is. 

“That was unsettlingly specific,” Julio grimaces, but accepts ‘Star’s hand nonetheless. He finds his footing then pushes the window open far enough for them to climb through, gloved fingertips hopefully leaving no prints. He swings one leg over the frame and then the other, boots squelching in something unpleasantly wet on the carpet as he lands. It smells appalling in there, and for good reason. Julio doesn’t think he’s ever seen that much blood outside of one of his own assassinations. He covers his nose and mouth with his hand on instinct, wishing he’d thought to wear his scarf. Actually, come to think of it, maybe he just needs to start wearing his uniform everywhere. Trouble seems to follow him enough. Also, he looks great in it.

“Where first?”

"The bathroom." 'Star says, eyes looking over the bloodstained carpet but ignoring the awful smell. That arm -- his assailants arm is probably in here rotting. He forgot about that. "I can get my soaps you can collect my video tapes and my --" 'Star glances right at his VCR that is smashed on one end and looks like it has very little likelihood of actually working. He stares at it for a long while before actually frowning. "It's broken..." Normally he would be angry, but right now he's just upset. The pouty, slightly huffy kind of upset. "I do not think they make those anymore..." 

Julio risks trying to comfort him, touching his arm above the elbow just lightly, indicating that he should move on. "Ebay it, dude," he says sagely. "Are your tapes okay?" As far as he can see, they are, but he'll leave it to 'Star to inspect them closer. He wants to just tell 'Star to stop living in the past and start learning about digital television but that just seems cruel, especially faced with how entirely heartbroken the taller man looks at the moment. "Hey, uh, how about you sort through those, and I'll go get your soaps?"

'Star is about to protest, but even he feels a little too defeated by the sight of his broken VCR to do anything other than nod in response to Julio's recommendation. 

When the other man finally leaves the room 'Star crouches down, knees on the blood soaked carpet, paying no mind to the fact that he's ruining a pair of Julio's jeans and touches his VCR lovingly for a moment before starting to root through all of his tapes. They seem to be scattered about, but appear no worse for the wear. He starts gathering them one by one in his arms, old recordings of _General Hospital, Baywatch,_ and _Beverly Hills 90210_ cradled gently against his chest. There may actually be too many to carry.

"Julio? I think I am going to need a bag." 

He doesn't have any bags. 

Julio startles at the sound of ‘Star’s voice. He’s down the hall in ‘Star’s bedroom, and he… well, he feels as though _snooping_ might be too strong a term. He’s actually searching for further evidence supporting their theory behind ‘Star’s attacker. What? There _could_ be clues in ‘Star’s underwear drawer. You never know, right?

“Um!” Julio calls out, hastily shoving the drawer back into place. “Yeah, hold on, I’ll -- do you have any garbage bags? Not that we’re gonna put your stuff in the garbage, obviously.” _Underwear drawer_ might have been too strong a term as well, given that none of the drawers actually contained any underwear. He wonders whether ‘Star is even wearing the pair he tried to lend him, or whether he left them on the bed. 

It might be a good assumption that he did, not because of the fact that they were slightly too bright for his taste, but because 'Star just doesn't wear underwear. At least not regularly. "I created very little waste," 'Star calls back. "I do not think I have any." He'd just use the plastic shopping bags he got from the grocery store for any garbage. There might still be a few under the sink... "Nevermind." He deposits all of his VHS tapes on the couch, which is surprisingly not too bloody, before going to check under the kitchen sink for a bag. "Are you almost done collecting my soaps?" 'Star narrows his eyes as he looks in a cabinet, coming across a few bags and -- a box of snack cakes. How convenient. 

Never mind the expiration date was six months ago. 

“Almost!” Julio rushes into the bathroom and grabs a towel, laying it flat over the sink before gathering everything off the shelves (it’s a lot of things. He has no idea what half of these soaps are even for) and piling it into the middle. Everything he touches seems to be advertised as smelling like (or even containing) some kind of food, which is baffling enough, and worse, it _smells_ edible as well. There’s soap that looks like cake. _Why would you want to rub cake on your body in the shower?_ He gathers the ends of the towel together, and carries it all out of the bathroom.

He walks in on ‘Star going to town on a box of snack cakes in the kitchen. _At least he’s not rubbing them on anything,_ he thinks, then sighs heavily, setting the towel down on the counter. “What’s left? The cereal?” Although if that turns out to be as out-of-date as the cakes maybe they should just cut their losses and go shopping for new cereal instead. That’s a terrifying thought, but he supposes if they’re going to be living together it will be something they’ll end up doing often.

'Star takes another cupcake out of the box and offers it to Julio, making a face when he shakes his head no. "The cereal." 'Star gets up, collecting the bags he set out for in the first place before placing the snack cakes in one and then rifling through his cabinets for all his cereal. He pulls out several boxes of disgustingly sugary cereal. Fruity Pebbles, Frosted Flakes -- there isn't a normal or nutritious cereal in the bunch. "There," 'Star says afters he's collected those in a bag as well. "You didn't miss anything in the bathroom, did you?" He eyes Julio suspiciously for a moment. 

“This was everything from the shelves,” Julio tells him, nodding towards the towel. “So unless you’re hiding shit in a secret compartment under the bathmat,” which now that he thinks about it doesn’t seem outside the realm of possibility, “I didn’t miss anything. C’mere,” he says, but doesn’t wait for a response before he catches ‘Star by the collar of his shirt and pulls him close for a kiss. His mouth tastes like snack cakes. Julio’s jaw still hurts. “I’ll make space for those in the cupboard,” he says once he pulls away, pointing to the cereal boxes. “Shit, I haven’t had Frosted Flakes since I was a kid.” His eyes widen suddenly. “Do they still sell Count Chocula?”

"I had some about a week ago." 'Star pulls away from Julio's lips for just a moment before kissing him one more time. "You could buy some." He blinks before pulling away and grabs the bag of cereal before walking over to the couch and grabbing his tapes before gently putting them in the extra bag. "There is -- or _was_ a rotting arm somewhere in here." 'Star looks around for a bit before he shrugs it off. It still reeks of blood and rotting flesh in the apartment, but 'Star got what he came for and that's all that matters. 

“Guess they must’ve taken it away for evidence,” Julio says, mirroring ‘Star’s shrug. His lips are still tingling from that kiss. “Should we leave? I kinda want to get out of here before anyone comes back.” The crime scene, and indeed the entire floor as far as he can tell, is empty, but it’s only a matter of time before whoever is investigating it returns. He’d almost tuned out the constant, cloying smell of old blood and flesh that permeates the apartment, but ‘Star’s mention of the arm brought it all back afresh, and suddenly he feels hesitant to breathe too deep in case he inhales something nasty. He’s showered twice today but he’s anticipating a third once he gets home. Maybe this time ‘Star will finally join him. “Wait, did you get clothes?” As appealing as the idea of ‘Star wandering around his apartment ( _their_ apartment) naked might be he feels it might cause more problems than it’s worth. 

"Here." 'Star shoves the bags of things in Julio's hands as he walks past him, heading into his bedroom and collecting a few articles of clothing and his swords and uniform as well. "I am ready to go if you are." 'Star looks a bit more complete with his swords strapped across his back, but he still looks a bit pouty. It's really just the VCR or the lack thereof. He's not going up be able to watch any of his tapes now. 

"What are you frowning about, _corazón?"_ Julio holds the bags to his chest and uses his free hand to cup 'Star's chin. "I told you, we'll find a new VCR on the internet.” It shouldn’t be too difficult. He’s never hacked into an online shopping site before, but there’s a first time for everything. “Plus, I’m kinda looking forward to watching stuff with you.” By which he means he used to smoke weed and watch Spongebob with Sam and Berto when they were all younger, and everyone got tired of it except for him, and this might be a chance to relive that. Or to get lectured on the dangers of smoking and kicked off his own sofa for a week or so. Either way. 

"You wish to watch my video tapes with me?" 'Star looks genuinely happy for a moment, waiting for Julio to confirm or deny that that is actually something that he wants to do. He can't imagine there being someone that would want to sit and just enjoy something with him. Something that is not a violent, bloody dealing out of justice that is. He remembers briefly a few months after he arrived on earth that Jubilation Lee of the X-Men would sit down with him and they would watch 90210 together, but that was a very short-lived arrangement after Cyclops realized what they were doing. Which was honestly just watching television. 

“Yeah, dude, I do.” Julio means that. He’s been pushing for this for a week now; this impossible-sounding idea of them spending time together outside of work, and outside of the bedroom. So ‘Star doesn’t appreciate driving as much as Julio does. So what? There are always other things. Like the video tapes. If all else fails, he can always just nap while ‘Star links in with the square-eyed borg consensus. If he’s lucky, maybe ‘Star will let him lean on his shoulder. 

“In the meantime, did you ever sort out Netflix? ‘Cause I was thinking, uh…” he’s suddenly nervous, heart pounding in his chest. _Moment of truth._ “If -- I mean, if it’s okay -- I got thinking the other day, since you mentioned Rambo… I haven’t seen those films for years, man. So. Uh.” He clears his throat. This is big. They’ve never taken a step like this before in their… well, he guesses it’s a relationship now, by some definition of the word. “Movie marathon? Tonight? We could also have pizza.”

'Star narrows his eyes slightly as if he's trying to asses if Julio is lying to him or if this is some sort of joke. When he's satisfied that it's neither he actually smiles a bit again, taking his tapes from the other man's hands. "If that is what we can do with the Netflix then yes. Also if there is pizza then perhaps we could have ice cream as well?" This is something that 'Star is slowly beginning to maybe recognize as a date or maybe it's something like a sleepover. But -- if it's a sleepover then wouldn't that mean he'd have to come back here afterward? His brain scrambles to try and find a definition to what Julio's asking him to do, but he decides maybe it's better if they just leave it at whatever type of event you watch movies and eat pizza and have ice cream at. "Chocolate ice cream." 

“You’re pushing it, man,” Julio warns him, even if it’s not true. He’s just as excited about ice-cream as ‘Star seems to be. He can’t remember the last time he had ice-cream. Wait, no, maybe he can. He thinks it might have been when his previous relationship ended. Technically, it was him who broke up with Akihiro, and not the other way around, but isn’t he still entitled to ice-cream either way? He thinks so. “Think bigger, though,” he advises, taking the bag with the tapes and beginning to move towards the window. “Think Ben and Jerry’s. Think Clusterfluff. I mean, why settle for boring chocolate ice cream, right?”

"But I like chocolate ice cream..." 'Star stands there confused for a second, looking far less menacing in that moment then a man who kills people with swords for a living should. He shakes it off rather quickly however as he follows Julio towards the window. "I simply want chocolate ice cream. You let me have that and you may choose the pizza." Giving Julio free reign over pizza toppings may be giving the man far, far more power than he should, but he rather likes plain chocolate ice cream. 'Star ducks out the window after Julio, watching as he slides down the fire escape with relative ease. 

Julio lands on his feet at the bottom of the fire escape with a wince. All the bags draped over his bad arm probably weren’t a good idea at all, but he must have used up his single good idea for the week on his movie night with ‘Star. _Which is actually going to happen. Holy hell._ He fishes his keys out of his pocket and clicks the button to unlock Luz as he crosses the street. He piles all the bags into the trunk, carefully arranging them so that nothing is crushed under anything else, and then opens ‘Star’s door for him once more.

'Star is probably going to regret this later, but he leans in to kiss Julio's cheek before sliding into the car. Julio has actually shown him some kindness here today and even if it's not something he really can appreciate in the way most people do, he's thankful that at least they came back and got his things. Actually, he's thankful that Julio did so without making many jokes or even poking fun at him in his usual ways. Plus. Pizza and movies sounds rather nice and _normal._ Is normal the word he's looking for? Maybe it is. 

\--

Julio never actually did end up smoking in front of the TV, like he'd hoped. Movie nights have become a bi-weekly ritual for him and 'Star now that they're living together. It surprises him, but he thinks he enjoys 'Star's company just fine without anything to take the edge off. He doesn't even drink on those nights. 

He has, however, snuck off to their bedroom tonight to light up in solitude. 'Star is still in the kitchen, rummaging through the freezer for ice-cream.

Or at least that's where Julio thought he was before he opened the door without knocking and waltzed straight into the bedroom. 

Julio jumps and almost drops the joint onto his pyjama pants. They're new -- they're the pair 'Star bought for him to replace the ones he indirectly ruined. They're different, a leopard-y pattern instead of polka dot, but Julio likes them a lot more. So it's lucky he didn't accidentally set them on fire. He doesn't know how 'Star is going to feel about this. He caught Julio smoking regular cigarettes on the balcony a few days back and gave him a stern lecture, asking him why he'd think it wise to risk the health of his quote unquote inferior human body for something that smells awful anyway. Julio had shrugged, and laughed, and asked a question in turn: what makes 'Star think Julio's going to live long enough to see it affect him anyway? Their profession isn't a kind one, and Julio himself holds no illusions. 

"Um," Julio bites his lip. "Do you, uh..." He pats the mattress beside him, raising an eyebrow in question. 

"Julio," 'Star warns before he sighs and sheds his shirt anyway, climbing into bed next to him. "Long life expectancy or not smoking and it's damaging effects on the body could hinder your ability to do your job." He comes from a different angle, knowing another speech about how Julio's human body will start to decay at a far more rapid pace if he continues to smoke won't deter him. It's most likely a moot point and 'Star is far too content from watching movies and eating ice cream to get into a proper argument with the other man right now. "Also whatever you are smoking now smells disgusting." He's frowning even as he settles next to Julio, displeased but not to the point where climbing into bed next to him seems like a poor decision. It's what he came in here to do. Living together has proven a less frustrating experience than 'Star had originally thought, mostly because they have the same line of work and the same expectations. Julio has even learned when to leave him be, how to work around his moods so he doesn't send him out a window or down a flight of steps. It's the best outcome that 'Star could have hoped for. 

"You're the last person who should be telling me about what hinders my ability to do my job," Julio says, rolling his eyes, but there's mirth in his voice as though he's about to laugh. The stitches on his shoulder are finally out and he has two thick, pale scars to remember it all by, one on either side. "Dude, uh, just so you know, you're gonna be breathing this in if you sit with me. Not that I don't want you to -- I totally do -- but. Just warning you."

"Meaning?" 'Star raises a ginger eyebrow. He doesn't quite get the logistics of what Julio is doing. This is his bedroom now as well and if he wants to sit here, he will. "I am far less likely to suffer the damaging consequences of whatever it is you are smoking now." He leans a little bit closer to Julio, crinkling his nose at the smell but not saying anything else about it. "And about your wound," 'Star plants a kiss to his shoulder. "The scars look just about as good as I'd hoped." 

"No, it's..." Julio pauses. Actually, 'Star might be right. Now that his healing factor is back to normal, his body should cycle out whatever effect this could have on him within minutes. "Hold on." He brings the joint to his lips and breathes in deep, holding the smoke in his mouth before gesturing for 'Star to come closer. He opens his mouth under 'Star's and exhales, only pulling away when he's sure he's succeeded and punctuating the action with another, softer kiss. It's been ages since he's done this, but it comes to him like second nature nonetheless.

'Star inhales but then has a coughing fit. The sensation is not entirely lost on him, but it most certainly could have been better. "Julio --" He says between coughs, lungs feeling heavy in his chest and some odd buzzy feeling finally hitting his brain. "What on earth are you smoking?" He's not even sure he wants to know at this point. 'Star's throat feels raw after inhaling what little bit of smoke he did and his eyes are watering. This is supposed to be a pleasant sensation? Well -- he does feel a bit wobbly. 

Julio pats him on the back and tries not to laugh, which is difficult. "It had some dumb flavor name -- _Phoenix Fire_ or somethin' like that." 'Star is staring at him rather suspiciously. "Weed. It's weed. Sorry, I shoulda gone outside, but I don't do this often and it's nicer if I'm cosy." He reaches down to pull the blanket up over his legs and 'Star's, suddenly remembering that he had planned to do that from the beginning. Whatever. He's got a million other things on his mind right now. He swims through his thoughts like a dolphin in a drifting swarm of jellyfish, or a bird among clouds, or... 

"Julio --" 'Star waves a hand over his face when he becomes a bit unresponsive. He rolls his eyes before sliding down and wrapping his arms around Julio's waist and leaning against him in a strange attempt at a cuddle. Only strange because 'Star is trying to stay as far away from that smoke as possible. "Are you going to continue to smoke that in bed?" There is a possibility that if he does he's going to possibly set the blankets on fire and then where would they be? Without blankets, that is for certain. 'Star isn't even sure how to remedy this smoking habit of Julio's and the most frustrating thing about it, is that he looks rather attractive when he does smoke. Still -- it doesn't negate the fact that he's slowly poisoning his body. 

“Unless you’re gonna kick me out,” Julio says, with a lazy shrug. The ability to properly articulate how he feels about ‘Star leaving or making him leave seems to be escaping him but he knows that the very thought of it makes him incredibly, profoundly distressed. He’s cozy. He has achieved optimal coziness thanks to ‘Star’s presence and for him to leave now would ruin the entire thing. “Don’t ruin it,” he mumbles, leaving it without explanation for several moments before clarifying: “Stay. Or let me stay, or whatever. This is…” _Nice. This is nice._ “You’re kinda touching my belly button,” he says, instead, with a giggle. _Close enough._ “And my pants. I really like these pants, man. I really do. Thank you for… uh, bestowing them upon me.”

"You look nice in that patterning." 'Star says in response after knitting his eyebrows together at Julio's earlier comment. He nuzzles into him a little more, ghosting his hand over his belly button before shutting his eyes and just relaxing for a moment. It might be the smoke, or maybe something else, but he feels lighter right now. Content. _Happy._ Is that the word? It certainly feels like maybe it is, if 'Star actually knows what that feels like. 

“So I’ve been told,” Julio comments, settling back into the pillows and interlocking his hands behind his head. “I mean, ‘cause of the whole Jaguar Prince thing. Honestly, though, I never really felt it.” His lips form the words without him really thinking about it, like every thought he has just voices itself without his permission. Dimly he realizes how dangerous that could be, and then he elects to ignore it because he’s happy, and ‘Star is _actually cuddling him_. And nuzzling against the hair on his stomach.

And looking at him in confusion. _Right. Jungle. Jaguars. Long story. Better tell it before it floats away._

"Jaguar prince?" 'Star asks when Julio doesn't elaborate, kissing the hair on his stomach before pressing one to his belly button. Something about that smoke that he's still inhaling....he smiles against Julio's stomach before looking up at him again with the same non terrifying and somewhat maybe goofy smile on his face. "Elaborate?" 

Julio is quiet for a moment, briefly distracted by ‘Star’s lips and the look on his face. “God, you’re cute,” he mumbles, wondering if his voice sounds as gooey as it feels. His words melt into a puddle and slip across the pillow like water off a duck’s back, and it’s a good thing they’re invisible otherwise he might have really embarrassed himself. “Okay, let’s… let’s elaborate.”

He thinks back, projecting his brain through time and space, back… god, he doesn’t even know how long it’s been. No more than two years, but somehow also a lifetime. He feels raindrops on the tip of his nose and hears jungle drums and rustling leaves echoing around his skull, feels the dirt under his feet and between his toes, and then he’s there. “I walked into the jungle,” Julio begins, closing his eyes and playing the memory out like a movie on the insides of his eyelids, “after Mexico, after my family. I was a mess but I walked like a man, and when I did the ground shook in my wake, and people fell at my feet.

“You know about Nova Roma, yeah? This was a lot like that. A city, cut off from everything around it for centuries. Like a portal into the past.” When ‘Star looks confused, Julio changes tack. “Uh. Have you seen, um, _The Road to El Dorado_?”

"Yes!" 'Star says with enthusiasm, "The adventures of Miguel and Tulio." He looks rather dreamily up at Julio, fluttering his long eyelashes and fully under the effects of the smoke in the air. It's like he's a bit of a different person when under the influence. "Did you have an adventure?" He pushes his fingers up through Julio's chest hair, toying with it. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Julio agrees, a smile ghosting across his lips. “The adventures of Julio and, uh, nobody.” _That’s_ sad. “So this was like that, only with the whole… lost in time angle, as well.” He covers ‘Star’s hand with his own, interlacing their fingers and holding his palm flat to his own chest, close enough to feel his heartbeat. He thinks that’s part of the story as well, in a lot of ways. “They called it the Place of Ashen Faces. After all the ghosts, I always thought. There was a lot of history there, a lot of past. A lot of bodies buried close to the city -- in it, even. I felt them in the ground when I walked across it.

“Long fuckin’ story, and there’s a lot of missing pieces -- like I said, I was a little worse for wear when I got there. Probably why I walked all that way in the first place. What I do remember is…” The heat. The rain. The shadows cast across the ground under the canopy of trees, and the clearings, and the fear in people’s eyes when they looked at him. “They -- I mean, the villagers, the priests, the leaders -- they all acted like they knew my name, only it wasn’t. They acted like they’d been expecting me, like they weren’t… surprised by my powers. Just afraid. I picked up the language after a couple weeks. They thought…” he draws from the joint again, feeling as though he needs it, somehow, to be able to continue. 

“They thought I was a god,” he says, finally, very quiet. “But they tested me. Had me do all this…” he trails off, then starts over. “I fought this jaguar, once. It was… symbolic, I guess. It’s kinda where the name came from.” He pauses, imagining he can hear the cogs turn as ‘Star runs the information over in his mind. “The Aztecs had -- or, I guess, _have_ \-- this god, y’know. His name,” Julio pauses again. _Tepeyollotl,_ but it seems weird to say that; the name sits heavy on his tongue like a stone, and he’s neglected the entire language long enough that he no longer remembers the best way to lift it. “It means something like _heart of the mountain_? He does… well, he does what I do, I guess. Quakes, and fissures, and… I dunno if they thought I was him, or I was related to him, or… whatever. They treated me like I might have been. Took me to a temple, tried to… I dunno, placate my godly fury, or whatever. I went along with it. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

"That is amazing." 'Star's eyes are wide, blue and sparkling and he even looks innocent. It might be the drugs or at least that's part of it. 'Star likes stories, all sorts of stories but right now Julio's story is the most amazing thing. He's getting more mellow as Julio breaths smoke out, petting his chest hair and nuzzling his stomach. "Have you ever thought about piercing your nose?" He reaches up with a long finger and pokes him in the right on the tip of it. "I think I'd like you even more with some sort of metal in your nose." 'Star gives him another lopsided grin. 

“Huh,” Julio articulates, laughter bubbling in his throat when ‘Star touches him. “No, I haven’t thought about it. ‘Least not in my nose.” He may not have considered it before, but he’s certainly considering it now. “Do you really think it’d suit me?” He almost says, _do you really think it would make you like me more_ but those alarm bells are tolling through the fog in his brain again, louder and more urgent than ever. “I keep thinkin’ about stuff like that and never getting around to it,” he adds, mostly as an observation, all thoughts of lost Aztecs and offerings to gods briefly fading into the background. 

"Right in the middle." And it's clear that 'Star isn't talking about a nose stud or something simple. His mind is pulling the image from somewhere and more likely than not it’s from mid-nineties television. "I think it would look very nice." It's probably the most sincere thing 'Star has said up to this point considering that telling someone you like the way they explode people's heads or that the way they slit throats is very arousing is not exactly a compliment. Not really at all. Not to this 'Star. Not the one that is getting higher by the second. 

Julio ponders this for a second, breathing in smoke and exhaling it through his nose, like a dragon. He's never thought much of his nose. If he were to get something pierced, he would have chosen somewhere he considered one of his better attributes -- his lower lip, or his cock, or perhaps his belly button -- but if 'Star thinks it's a good idea... 

Julio realizes he trusts the man's judgement more when he's high than at any other time. He's not sure what that says about either of them. "Any other suggestions? Or, y'know, you could just compliment me more. I'd be... I'd be chill with that," he adds, as though there's a possibility of him being anything _but_ chill.

"Mmm--" 'Star just hums against his chest, looking up at him again. "That and you should wear more shirts with --" He feels like he could trip over his own words or that his tongue is currently doing that. "A low cut --" He's talking about v-necks and maybe Julio can figure it out or maybe he'll ask 'Star to elaborate even if he's not sure he can. His mind is swimming, but at the same time things seem clear in a way they never really have before. "So I can see your chest hair." 'Star then emphasizes that point by nuzzling his face in it. When he closes his eyes he sees flashes of something akin to Julio's story, of Julio on a throne and himself at his side, clad in the skin of a jaguar. It's vivid and he opens his eyes to make sure it's not actually real.

Julio is certain he knows what 'Star means, but the term _v-neck_ escapes him also, like some unseen force has drifted into the air between them and plucked the words from their reach. He compromises by taking 'Star's hand and drawing a V shape across his own chest with 'Star's fingertips. It's suddenly pouring rain outside, or maybe it's just that Julio hasn't noticed it until now. Tomorrow, the streets will be bordered with puddles from the overflowing gutters, and if the gutters are full, that means the sewers must be full, which... has always terrified him. He's had to travel through them on several miserable occasions, and the idea that this much water could suddenly come rushing through to drown him makes his skin crawl. That, and he heard there were alligators.

"I hope the alligators swim away this time," he proclaims, breathing smoke from his nose again. Can he blow smoke rings? That's kind of like nose rings, isn't it? It uses the same word.

"Alligators? In the sewers --" 'Star muses as he kisses Julio's jaw rather messily. "Mutant turtles too." He grins again afterward, watching as Julio blows smoke rings from his nose. "Maybe you are actually part dragon." 'Star inhales deeply as Julio exhales the smoke, pupils dilated. "Dragon or jaguar -- something deadly like that." Deadly but also something else. He doesn't have a lot of words at his disposal on a regular basis, but now it's even harder to find words to describe things. "Cute too." 'Star licks his lips as he looks up at Julio, all thoughts of v-neck tee shirts gone for just a moment. Or maybe gone permanently due to whatever fog has washed over his mind. 

“Alligators aren’t cute,” Julio mumbles, slipping his free hand under ‘Star’s arm to pull him up closer. He guides him onto his lap, straddling his hips somewhat haphazardly. “Neither are jaguars. We’re wild animals, man. Killers. Heart-eaters.” He doesn’t look like either of those things, nor does he feel like them. ‘Star is a warm weight on his body, the most comforting pressure, and he aches to hold him there, to keep him close and smile with him and talk to him about whatever comes to mind. “Do you want to kiss me again?”

“Dangerous animals can be cute sometimes.” ‘Star says and it’s not exactly a wise sagely thing, but it makes sense to him. “And yes, I want to kiss you again.” He leans forward without needing any more prompting and presses his lips to Julio’s softly. It’s a sweet kiss, nothing rough or hard. It’s not even needy and it seems to fit just in that moment. ‘Star feels so warm and even warmer now that he is settled against Julio. He feels like he could melt right into the other man, melt and merge and become one. 

Julio has one hand on the small of ‘Star’s back, fingertips just grazing the imprint of his spine, and the other out beside him, carefully holding the joint away from the pillows lest he set something on fire. He’s not sure on the details -- not when his brain is already blissfully foggy and ‘Star is kissing him -- but he’s pretty sure something being on fire would have a negative effect on the entire experience. A total wet blanket, only… not.

“I like your freckles,” he tells ‘Star, once ‘Star pulls away. His face is very close, and Julio can see all of them, entire constellations of dots across his nose and his cheeks and even his eyelids. “I could try to kiss all of them, but I think there are too many. I’d run out of kisses, and I don’t wanna do that. The rest are for other parts of you.”

'Star laughs and actually it's more of a giggle at the moment. "I like your everything." He admits, laying his hands flat against Julio's chest before he moves them up and loosely loops them around his neck. "And I really do not want you to run out of kisses." 'Star peppers Julio's cheeks and the bridge of his nose with feather light kisses before pulling back again. "Do you have more stories for me? Maybe something to do with --" He reaches into the back of his mind to try and grab at a thought and ends up pulling the first thing he can think of forward. "What you thought the first time we met." 'Star is actually having a hard time remembering what he even thought, but he knows that's it's slightly unpleasant or that he thought something less than good about Julio. He's wondering why because right now he just feels warm. 

“You mean that job we did at that AIM lab?” Julio squeezes his eyes shut, trying to recall the precise details. The target, or his mission parameters, or the time of day, or anything other than the way ‘Star’s smile and his swords had glinted in the dark. “The one where you were gonna run in and fight everyone and I just wanted to bring the whole building down?” ‘Star nods vaguely at him, and he continues. “I -- I dunno,” Julio murmurs, opening his eyes again. “I mean… I guess you annoyed the hell out of me, but you were hot.” He chuckles, partially to show he doesn’t mean any harm with what he said, but mostly because he can’t stop himself. 

“Now, it’s like…” He trails off. He doesn’t have words for it, at least not in English. It’s not a sentence, it’s a fluttery feeling in his stomach or a skipped beat in his pulse or a magnet that draws his eyes to specific places when ‘Star is in the room. He doesn’t know where to start, so he settles for pressing his lips to ‘Star’s neck, sucking a mark into the skin there and soothing it with an unintentionally sloppy kiss when he’s done. _“Te amo,”_ he mumbles, as though it’s nothing. He expects those mental alarm bells to be tolling again, but they’re not. Funny.

"You use words I do not understand sometimes." 'Star has noticed it, but he hasn't made any effort to think any harder about their meaning until right this moment. It's entirely the drugs fault. "What do they mean?" He can pinpoint the inflection Julio puts on them and can ascertain that he's speaking in another language, but he hasn't quite put it together in his mind yet and he's certainly not in a place right now to try and work it out without help. 

Usually he'd approach the fact that Julio was speaking another language at him as a challenge, something to figure out and then silently listen to words the other man figured he didn't understand. It would prove to be a valuable asset, a secret to keep and use against him when it was most beneficial, but now -- now he's simply curious. He wants it to be explained to him. But more than that, he wants to understand because he cares. It's part of Julio that he's eager to learn about. 'Star isn't going to say that out loud, but with his current state of mind it's a wonder it doesn't slip out anyway. 

_He’s going to kick your ass for this, once he sobers up,_ a rare voice of reason in Julio’s head advises him. _You’ll be in enough trouble as it is for getting him high in the first place._

The voice is right, of course. He was so wrapped up in this that he didn’t even stop to think that eventually, it will be over, and they’ll go back to… what even are they, anyway? _You hate each other,_ says a voice, and _you’re falling in love,_ says another, and neither of them are wrong. Two days ago, ‘Star threw him down the apartment steps. An hour ago, they were cuddling in front of the TV and sharing ice-cream. Julio is supposed to be conquering him, reeling him in, tightening the leash, but if this really is that kind of game, then ‘Star is almost winning it by accident. Tonight, they’ll fall asleep in each other’s arms. Tomorrow, who knows what kind of hell there will be to pay?

In another universe, Julio thinks, unbidden, perhaps they’re meant for each other. Perhaps they fell together like pieces of a puzzle instead of grabbing at one another and spitting fire and trying desperately to make the parts mesh. Thing is, he can’t tell which of these scenarios is the one he wants.

“I said you’re still annoying,” Julio lies, finally, lips twitching up into a smirk. “And you’re still really hot.”

There might be hell to pay later, but even if it's by small increments, 'Star is slowly opening up more, bit by bit. He's so wrapped up in whatever it is that's hanging between them right now he can hardly remember throwing Julio down the steps let alone why he did it. Right now he's smiling against Julio's cheek and soon, he'll be sinking down into the pillows with him and gripping him too tightly as they sleep. Julio might not think that they are meant for each other, but in a twisted way they are the only one either of them will ever truly understand. 

It's not love. Or at least not the same love that 'Star recognizes from TV programs. It's not romantic and it's not about being together and eating ice cream and watching movies even if somewhere in 'Star's mind he wants it to be. This is about power and control and dragging each other down so far that they can't crawl back up again. 

Or at least that's what 'Star tells himself when he feels his heart warm in his chest when he thinks of Julio. 

Julio finishes the joint and stubs it out on the dresser beside the bed. He spends the next half hour in bed, cuddling with ‘Star (‘Star is the little spoon, which sends Julio into a near-constant fit of giggles, because ‘Star isn’t little at all), before he realizes the lights in their room are still on. Somehow, his journey across the room to the light switch turns into a quest for snacks that leads him to the kitchen and then back again. They sit up in bed together, eating cold pizza with all the manners of men who haven’t eaten for days. Julio falls asleep with his head on ‘Star’s lap and the pizza box open across his knees, like a makeshift blanket. It seemed, like most of tonight’s events, to be a good idea at the time.


	5. Promises to Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys set out in search of 'Star's attacker, and uncover the shadow of something far more insidious than they expected.

"Where is Pietro Maximoff?" 'Star doesn't growl it. He’s not snarling or enraged when he asks, but the eerie calm-almost-bored look on his face is somehow scarier as he grips the man he's been asking questions tighter, continuing to dangle him over an empty elevator shaft. Interrogation is tiresome and unless there is a very real threat of bodily harm behind it, it usually never works. For this mission however, 'Star has been listening to Julio and only because he's seen results in the past does he continue with this tactic.

"I don't -- I don't know any Pietro! I only know Peter --" 

Peter, 'Star has come to realize, is the name Pietro has been going by in these MGH deals he's been working and setting up. It's not clever and it's not even a codename and it irritates him that it's taken them this long to put that small piece together.

“Where?” Julio’s voice is measured, and deceptively calm. He leans against the elevator doorframe with his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the carpet. He’s starting to really like playing the good cop to ‘Star’s bad cop. Maybe he should suggest they bring those roles into the bedroom. _Officer Cutie, reporting for --_

“He works out of the Lehnsherr building on Sixth!” the man in the elevator shaft squeaks, almost hyperventilating. “The -- the office block with the blue glass windows. He’s on the eighth floor. O-or maybe it was the seventh?”

Julio nods. “Good. It’s so much easier when you people know how to cooperate.” Flies, meet honey. “Is there anything else you could tell my partner and I?”

The man nods rapidly, before realizing that his movement is causing ‘Star to lose his grip on his ankle, and stopping immediately. “A name. Darkholme. Raven Darkholme. I don’t know who she is, but I’ve heard it -- a lot of times from a lot of people. Oh my god, I think I’m slipping -- you’re gonna let me up now, right? Like you promised?” His pleas are directed at Julio. 

Julio removes his hand from his pocket. His fingers are crossed. He smiles.

"You rotten bastard." The man's eyes widen in fear as he realizes Julio's game. He's ready to spit more expletives at him, but before he can, 'Star adjusts his grip just slightly and tosses the man upward, tremendous strength sending him what looks like four floors up before he hurtles back down with a blood curdling scream. 

He'd let him fall, but he's not done quite yet. He catches him at the last minute, grabbing his ankle again with a grip that's probably hard enough to crack bones. "I do wonder how many times I can throw you up and catch you before you fall," 'Star isn't asking, he's just musing to himself. "I think it would be an excellent test of hand eye coordination." He glances over at Julio, wondering if it might just be better to scare this one so badly he starts to infect the whole MGH operation with how terrifying their assailants are.

"You're crazy -- let me down! Please, I'll give you all the money I have --" The man's voice is shaking and his nose is running as he sobs.

Julio shakes his head. "No. No traces, no evidence, no loose ends." He doesn't need to remind 'Star of what happened last time they didn't clean up after themselves. "He's done. That was all he knows." He's proven to be a good judge of that. Has a keen eye for deception. Takes one to know one, and so forth. And this guy isn't bluffing. "Drop him." 

They need to move on. They have two other suspects to track down tonight, in three possible locations. _Miles to go before we sleep,_ Julio quotes to himself. Luz is parked outside, and if they move quickly, they should be onto the second suspect before anybody notices this man is missing. Julio doesn't often run missions on his own, outside the advice of Madrox or any of his previous employers, but when he does he runs them quick, and he runs them as clean as possible. 'Star seemed to have been on the same page at least when they first planned this, but now Julio’s not so certain.

'Star looks mildly annoyed, like a cat whose owner has just decided can't have the mouse it's caught. He narrows his eyes as he looks over at the man dangling. "You will break your neck when you fall." It's certain and chillingly concise. "But at the small chance you survive, know that no one is coming for you. No one will save you. No one will even miss you." He lifts the man just enough to make eye contact with him. "Pray to whatever deity you worship that you die on impact." 'Star takes a breath before he lets him fall without another thought, not flinching at the scream or the crunch that follows. 

"If you are in such a rush, let us away, Julio." 'Star turns on his heel, walking past him with a distinct look on his face that is kind of a mix between a pout and something else that's indeterminable at the moment. Frighteningly enough, it’s the same pout ‘Star wears when he runs out of his favorite cereal or when the store doesn't have the right kind of chocolate milk. 

It isn’t until they’ve left the building, returned to the car, and sped out onto the street that Julio risks replying. They’re racing through the city at a pace that would be dangerous if there was anyone else on the roads but there isn’t; the world seems empty aside from them, and the streetlights, and the steady hum of Luz’s motor echoing off the buildings surrounding them. Julio leans back in his chair, foot pressed steadily on the accelerator, and ‘Star is hunched forward in his seat, sulking, a dark silhouette against the lights on the dashboard.

“You know we didn’t have time,” Julio says, as softly as he can over the sound of the car. He doesn’t say sorry, but it’s an apology all the same, in tone and in intention. It isn’t just that. Leaving a mess leaves traces, and they’re still no closer to tracking down the mutant who almost killed ‘Star the last time they made that mistake. Julio hopes their efforts tonight will aid in that regard as well. The whole business is starting to make him anxious. He doesn’t mention that, either because ‘Star will understand without him voicing it or because he doesn’t want ‘Star to know how much he worries. Instead, he takes one hand off the wheel, reaches over, and squeezes ‘Star’s shoulder. His voice is barely a whisper.

“You were good back there. Really good.”

'Star glances up at him, frown twitching just a bit into an odd sort of half smile, like he's trying to fight it off but he can't. "You were good as well,” he finally sighs. "But you owe me, considering I have been more than ready to let loose after my injuries healed." 'Star has felt the tension growing inside of him and it's been far too long since he's actually laid waste to more than a handful of people. Something in his blood is itching for it. Julio doesn't hold him back, but his tactics are different. "I would like to end Pietro Maximoff's life myself." He's got ideas in his head about how he'd go about it, especially if it turns out that the man was behind sending that other mutant after him. 

'Star takes a moment after voicing his thoughts to let his own hand drift over to Julio's thigh, squeezing just slightly. It's a mirror of what the other man just did to him, but it does have a certain fondness to it. Maybe it's just a trick of the blue colored lights from the dash, but 'Star's smile might just be genuine as well. “Unless you’d like to fight me for that honor.” 

Julio shakes his head. He’s thinking the same thing ‘Star is -- that this man, this son of a billionaire who had the gall and the greed to seek more and to sink to these kinds of lows to get it, is responsible for ordering the attempt on ‘Star’s life. 

“He’s all yours,” Julio tells him. It’s not as though the guy’s ever done anything to him. “We need to press him for information first, obviously. He’s not our end target, but he’s a stepping stone. An important rung in the ladder up. Y’know.” He returns both hands to the wheel, and turns the corner, tires screeching. “And it’s just like we talked about. We go in quiet, and we don’t get seen; not even on the way out. I’m going to need time to go through their systems before we leave. You’ll watch my back, won’t you?” 

“Of course I will,” ‘Star nods, taking his hand back but not before letting it slide a little bit farther up Julio’s thigh. “And silence, yes. It should not be difficult.” Neither of them use firearms so there is no chance in drawing attention that way. “Do you have any idea of the layout of this building?” ‘Star is not exactly familiar with it but he assumes that most buildings owned by the same person have a similar layout, unless it’s been altered for whatever sinister purposes this Pietro Maximoff has. Perhaps he’s thinking about this too hard, and this man is some strung out MGH junkie who’s using stolen powers to get what he wants. Either way, ‘Star intends on putting an end to him. 

“I had a look at the upper floor plans for all the company buildings, just in case, but there were a lot of them. They’re mostly similar -- office blocks with floors full of cubicles, ‘side from the top floor, which is that…” Julio doesn’t know what it’s called exactly, but, “that smaller bit you can see on the top of skyscrapers. That’s an office. I’d be willing to bet that that’s _his_ office.” That, at least, is obvious. Julio hasn’t even met the guy, but he knows exactly the sort of grandiosity that kind of personality lends itself to. He’ll be arrogant, Julio thinks, and men with egos are the easiest to mess with. That won’t be a problem.

Getting to the top floor of that building without alerting anyone? _That’s_ the problem.

“‘Star,” Julio says, conversationally. “How far can you jump? Like, horizontally?”

“If I have a running start --” ‘Star thinks on it for a moment. “Forty to fifty feet.” He’s just estimating, it’s not as if he’s ever measured and until a few years ago he’d never bothered learning Earth measurements. They are useful however for many things as he’s come to realize. “Why? Do you have some sort of a plan?” ‘Star can almost tell that he does. Julio gets this certain look on his face when he’s working things out or concocting plans of his own. He shifts back in the leather seat before crossing his arms. “You could always throw me to the top of the building or across to it. My bones are hollow, I could make it there quite easily.” 

Julio doesn’t look away from the road. That expression is still on his face, the one he wears when he’s scheming something. “Or,” he offers, cautiously, “you could throw me across first, and jump after me.” He sees ‘Star’s expression out of the corner of his eye, and clarifies: “No, seriously. You know how tight they’ve packed the buildings in that sector. Top of the hill, dude. That’s meant to be the safest place in the city. Everyone wants in on that.” He deliberates stopping at a red light, then shrugs it off, speeding through without a glance to the side. He loves driving this late at night. “Couldn’t be more than thirty-five feet between the Lehnsherr building and the one next to it. Thirty, if we’re lucky. Twenty-five if we’re luckier still. I can make that, if you’ve got good enough aim.” 

"You truly want me to throw you across the top of a building?" 'Star arches an eyebrow, wondering if Julio is possibly more masochistic than he initially thought. "My aim is fine, better than yours most likely." He shakes his head. "And throwing you will not be a problem if you do not mind possibly obtaining a concussion or perhaps a broken arm." This wouldn't be his goal of course, but 'Star hasn't had much practice reigning in his strength. "I trust you have more of a plan than me simply throwing you onto the building." They are going to have to infiltrate it, meaning they should have some sort of gauge on how many people they might encounter once inside. 

“Not _onto_ the building,” Julio shakes his head. “ _Into_ it. It’ll be plate glass, but I can shake a window out to give us an entry point. Also, you’re not giving me enough credit.” He wants to add _as usual_ , but he won’t. It’s a tactic. People underestimate him, and it’s always their mistake. ‘Star does it just as much as anyone. Still -- he should know. “I wouldn’t let you throw me if I didn’t know how to land,” he says, reaching across again to place his hand on ‘Star’s thigh almost comfortingly. He wouldn’t, just as he wouldn’t let ‘Star hit him if he didn’t know if he could take it, or tie him up if he didn’t know how to get himself free. Julio likes to take risks, but he’s not stupid and he’s certainly not incompetent. Right now, he can’t tell if ‘Star is mocking him or whether he’s genuinely concerned.

Considering the look on 'Star's face and the way he slightly relaxes when Julio puts his hand on his leg it might actually be the second option. "I was just stating that I am not used to holding back when it comes to my strength." It's true, or at least it's true in the majority of combat situations. 'Star knows how to hold himself back when he's with Julio intimately, he knows where to put his hands, how much strength he needs to pop his arm out of place or bruise a rib -- when he needs to loosen his grip to let him breathe. But he can't speak for how much he's going to need to hold back to make sure that Julio doesn't go in one side of the building and right out the other. 'Star supposed he'll just have to figure it out. Julio is his equal in many things, but sheer brute strength is not one of them.

“You’ll do fine,” Julio tells him, glancing over at him with a reassuring smile. “‘Star -- I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but you’re my partner.” He hasn’t taken his hand off ‘Star’s knee yet. “I trust you. Everything’s gonna be fine.” Slowly, he lifts his foot off the accelerator, slowing the car to a near-silent crawl. They’re about a block away now, whispering through the empty streets. The forest of skyscrapers around them almost blocks out the moonlight entirely, and the brightest lights come from Luz’s dashboard, clock flashing 2:00AM exactly as Julio pulls into a cramped alley and turns off the motor. 

He doesn’t open the door, instead pushing his seat back so that he can tighten the laces of his boots. They’re bright red, with two black stripes along each outer side and heavy-looking soles. If he’s going to be jumping and landing on his feet, then these are the boots he wants to land with. “We’ll go up via the fire escape,” Julio explains, tugging the laces tighter before doubling them around his calf and tying them in a sturdy knot. The leather of his gloves squeaks when he moves his fingers. 

“It’ll be indoors. A stairwell, hopefully up to the rooftop.The building we’re going up -- I think it’s called the Destiny, it’s kinda like a hotel/fancy apartment block kind of deal -- is a floor higher than the Lehnsherr place. That’s good. It’ll make the jump easier.” It will also make it harder to throw him precisely, but he doesn’t mention that. He’ll make it. He has to. “Once you’ve thrown me over, jump after me. Dude won’t know what hit him. If we’re lucky, we might even catch him sleeping.” They’re going to have to be lucky. Julio finishes tying his boots and opens the door, slipping out into the cold night air. 

“And cross your fingers that it doesn’t start raining,” he adds, closing the door and making his way around to the passenger side. His boots splash in the puddles surrounding the gutters. He glances up at the two buildings -- Lehnsherr and Destiny -- and gets a shiver down his spine that may not be entirely related to the chill in the air. He opens ‘Star’s door for him, and as soon as the other man steps out, Julio is kissing him, leaning him back against the side of the car and licking into his mouth with a sort of quiet desperation. He has one hand on ‘Star’s jaw, framing his chin, and the other curled tightly into his hair, holding him close, wishing he could be closer. 

Usually a display like this would cause 'Star to recoil, pull back and push Julio away with all the force he could into the brick wall behind them but this time he doesn't. He feels the desperation in the kiss, the static in the air between them even in the cold. Julio is kissing him like this because somewhere buried beneath the bravado he actually might be worried that they won't make it back from this. Or one of them won't at least. 'Star sucks Julio's tongue into his mouth, gentle despite himself. He circles his hands around to the small of the other man's back before dipping down to his ass and grabbing it, lifting him up so they can kiss as a better angle. 

When 'Star finally has enough sense to pull back, breath and let Julio down he's smiling. "We need to get going." He squeezes his shoulder before taking off in a jog down the sidewalk to the building in question. There is not a soul outside of the hotel, but the front door is not an option. Besides the fact that they would walk right in and past the lobby attendant, most residential buildings like this lock the external doors after a certain time, making them inaccessible unless you have a key card for one of the rooms inside. It's a problem. "We need to find a door that's entrance leads to the bottom block of rooms. It is going to be locked, do you think you can still get us inside without making too much noise?" What 'Star means is can Julio get them inside without breaking something or shattering glass where someone will notice. 

“‘Course,” Julio assures him, still a little breathless. If that’s the way he gets kissed when he’s about to risk death, then perhaps he should risk death more often. “All I do is shake the screws out of the hinges. It’s almost silent.” Or at least it is from several feet away. Up close, Julio’s always thought it sounds a little bit like a vibrator. Which is totally not something he has first-hand knowledge of. At all. _Nope._

He catches up to ‘Star, following him around the side of the building to a door that looks as though it might fit their description. There are windows on this side of the building, but none directly above the door; it follows that this must lead to the stairwell. Julio presses his fingertips to the top hinge and focuses, and hears the screw drop to the floor on the other side. He repeats this with the second hinge and then the lock, and then he pushes the door out of its frame, leaning on it and channeling all his weight into the force of his shoulder. He doesn’t hear any alarms, or see any signage indicating one. “Okay,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. “Easy part’s over. Let’s get onto the roof.”

Climbing twenty flights of steps doesn't seem like a daunting task, at least to 'Star but it's by the thirteenth floor that he stops being able to hear steady footfalls behind him. "Julio?" It's a harsh whisper as he turns around but he's not there, in fact, he's a flight and a half behind him. 'Star sighs and backs up a bit to lean over the railing. "Do you require some assistance?" Normally he would be annoyed, but his tone is a bit teasing as he looks down on Julio. He's got one hand on the railing and his other at his side, toying with the hilt of the lone sword he decided to bring with him on this mission. "If you cannot keep up with me perhaps I will have to complete this mission alone." Another playful dig as 'Star's long fingers tap the railing. 

“Hey,” Julio grumbles, interrupting himself with a cough. “We can’t all be super athletic, genetically engineered scary-hot moon men. Slow the fuck down,” he demands, letting go of the railing and beginning to climb the stairs again, two at a time. His lungs are burning, and it’s his fault entirely -- not because of his smoking habit, but because he thought it would be funny to try and race ‘Star up the first five flights of steps. It wasn’t. Not even remotely. “At least stay a flight ahead,” he continues, beginning to catch up. “Have I ever told you how much I like walking behind you?”

"So you can stare at me? Maybe I should come down there and carry you." 'Star is teasing again but he starts up the stairs despite wanting to stay back and taunt Julio more. "I should have known that you spend most of your time ogling me." And it really shouldn't have surprised him given all he knows about Julio. "You could tell me how much you like walking behind me unless you are too out of breath to do so." 

“Oh, no, you know what? I think I am too out of breath,” Julio fakes another cough, “all of a sudden.” He stops climbing, electing instead to rest against the handrail, mopping his brow with his scarf. “Maybe you will need to carry me.” He’s just being a brat, now, but he supposes this might have its merits. If ‘Star carries him, maybe he’ll get a better sense of his weight, and how hard he’d have to throw him when they reach the top of the building. Or -- well, he can rationalize it all he wants, but mostly he just thinks it’d be funny. “I could tell you then. Y’know. Once I,” he clutches his ribs dramatically, “regain my composure.”

‘Star gives him a look and then rolls his eyes before coming back down the steps and all but scooping Julio up into his arms. It’s not a fireman’s carry like it usually would be, this time he’s got him held close to his chest. “Better? Are you slowly regaining your composure?” In all reality he should have simply thrown Julio up the stairs, but he suggested this, even if it was partially just a dig at the other man and he didn’t think that he’d actually let him carry him up the steps like this. 

“I think I may need to be resuscitated,” Julio says breathily, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Do you know CPR?” He’s probably -- no, _definitely_ \-- pushing his luck, but ‘Star doesn’t seem to be angry. It almost looks as though he may be about to smile. “Y’know, with the rhythm, and the compressions, and the, uh, mouth-to-mouth… thing…” He tries to look innocent, and ends up looking anything but. 

“I do not know CPR.” ‘Star looks at him rather deadpan before leaning down just slightly so their noses are almost touching. “But if you are in need of mouth to mouth.” He stops halfway up the steps before kissing Julio rather messily, mostly tongue before he pulls away tugging his bottom lip as he does. “Easier to breathe now?” 

“Uh,” Julio mumbles, a smile slowly illuminating his features. “Not exactly.” And he’s right, it isn’t, but he does feel better. Safer, like he could keep making jokes and stealing kisses forever instead of having to step back out into the cold and possibly the rain. He refuses to admit, even to himself, that it might be because of how ‘Star is holding him. That would be too much, even for him.

“Do you require more kissing?” ‘Star is honestly serious, as if he didn’t hear what he just said. “Because I can continue, however I think it would hinder the mission.” Which is usually the most important thing but right now, with Julio pressed close against him, he’s content to keep kissing him. At least for the moment should he require it. And by the look on Julio’s face, he certainly requires it. 

Julio hides his face against 'Star's chest for a moment, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. "If there's one thing you should know about me, Darkstar," he says, once he pulls himself together and looks up at him again, "it's that I pretty much always require more kissing." He laughs, quietly and more breathlessly than he anticipated, and loops his arms around 'Star's neck. 'Star is even warmer than usual, presumably from the climb, and instead of sweating like Julio is Julio can hear him panting softly. "You're right, though," he admits, very reluctantly. "It would hinder the mission. But -- don't wear yourself out," he says, as though he hasn't just tricked him into carrying him up seven flights of stairs. "'Cause, when we get home..." he winks, suddenly confident in that being _when_ and not the previous _if._

"You are not going to regale me with the details?" 'Star finally continues up the steps, still smirking as he kicks the door to the roof open with his foot. The night air is cold but at least it's clear and this far up the moon is so big it looks like you could reach out and touch it. "I am going to put you down now." He does just that, setting Julio on his feet before heading to the far side of the roof and glancing over at the Lehnsherr building. It's not a far jump at all and if he picked up Julio again they could probably make it across if he just jumped. They will stick to Julio's plan however. 'Star stands at the edge of the rooftop for a moment and turns back to look at his partner, moonlight casting an almost ethereal glow around him, his white eye looking almost more haunting. "You were right about the distance." 

“I’m right about a lot of things,” Julio replies absent-mindedly, tearing his eyes away from the sight of ‘Star in front of him in the moonlight and making his way to the edge of the rooftop. He crouches when he gets there, looking down over the ledge to the top floor of the Lehnsherr building. The roof itself -- the smaller part -- is covered in antennas and air conditioning units and various miscellanea, but the top floor office is surrounded by a small balcony, which looks easy enough to land on if he has a little help. There’s not enough room to land safely, though, but shaking out one of the glass panes that constitutes the office wall should clear a path. “I’m going to take out the window,” he warns ‘Star, linking his hands and pointing his index fingers forward the way he does when he’s channeling precise bursts of power. “Get ready to pick me up once it’s done. I only need you to throw me far enough to reach the balcony, can you do that?”

“Do you think I can do that?” ‘Star scoffs, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes before he watches Julio work. He’s only ever seen the sheer destructive aspect to his powers and it’s interesting to see this and to watch as the glass cracks and then completely shatters especially with what looks like minimal effort. ‘Star ponders for a moment exactly how powerful of a mutant Julio really is. His mind flits between words like _omega level_ and a word he heard Cyclops use once that he cannot actually remember. It is most likely inconsequential anyway. However, he would like to see what Julio could do when he really lets loose. There had been mention of earthquakes and other seismic activity and ‘Star finds himself wondering if Julio really put his mind to it, if he could level this whole city. Leave it in ruins without so much as a second thought. That eventuality might terrify most people, but it leaves ‘Star exhilarated and somewhat aroused. 

“Hey, you’re the one who was doubting it, not me.” Julio stands, brushing dust off the knees of his pants and taking a step closer to ‘Star. “I told you, man,” he murmurs, leaning in close enough that his lips are almost touching ‘Star’s ear. “I trust you.” He kisses ‘Star’s cheek, lips lingering for much longer than they probably should have, and then pulls back, standing to the side and lifting his arms slightly. He doesn’t spare another glance over the edge of the building; it’s growing dark anyway, clouds shifting across the borders of that massive summer moon. “Now pick me up and throw me into the damn building.”

Julio doesn't have to ask him twice. 'Star has a good idea of exactly how much he weighs after carrying him up the steps. He could pick him up in the way that Julio is indicating, but it's not preferable. 'Star leans over and takes a moment to zip the other man's leather jacket up before grabbing the collar of it with one hand and Julio's ass with the other before lifting him up just slightly. "I am going to count to three," 'Star whispers. "One." He breathes out. "Two --" His foot slides back just slightly. "Three." It's final and 'Star tosses Julio right across to the balcony waiting to see exactly how he executes the landing or if he's just going to roll into the building extremely ungracefully. 

Julio closes his eyes for a split second as he crosses the gap, feeling that peculiar stomach-dropping sensation that comes with being mobile, and airborne, and several feet away from the ground. He’s always wondered if it’s worse for him than it is for anyone else -- he’s not afraid of heights, but he feels the absence of dirt beneath his feet more than is normal, because of his powers. He’s hyper-aware of exactly how much distance is between him and the Earth at all times, even now, with his heart racing and blood rushing in his ears and the wind pulling at his hair. He opens his eyes a moment before he reaches the balcony, with just enough time to bring himself forward into a roll, barely touching his fingertips to the edge before he turns further, motion softening the impact of his landing. He somersaults once, then rises to his feet at the end of it, skidding an inch or two once he regains his footing. He turns to look at ‘Star, and stands up straighter, and raises his arms by his sides in imitation of a gymnast who has just executed a perfect move. “Told you,” he calls out, or he would, if someone hadn’t just come up behind him and wrapped their arm around his throat.

There is a sharp tug before the world around Julio is a blur, 'Star and the night air gone in favor of the bright halogen lights of an office. There is a barely visible blur of blur before Julio goes flying into a wall, hard enough to crack the plaster. "You," the voice that sounds finally is low and insidiously smooth. "Have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." 

Meanwhile back on the roof 'Star is still trying to work out what happened. Julio was there one moment and gone the next and the only reasonable explanation is --

'Star's next thought is gone, swallowed by panic as a hand wraps around his throat from behind, claws digging into flesh but not breaking skin. He can hear the distinctive low rumble of a growl and a dark chuckle. "Ready for round two, frail?" There is a louder growl before 'Star is thrown across the gap of the buildings and directly into a window, tumbling messily and bloodily into a row of desks on the other side.

Julio picks himself up immediately, hissing and glowering and secretly aching in every fibre of his being. He looks around, searching for his attacker, and turns to the window just in time to see ‘Star crash through the window. He shouts (he doesn’t know _what_ he shouts; it might just be a sound, or a curse, or maybe it’s ‘Star’s name; whatever it is is lost to the sound of the glass shattering and the desks crashing together in ‘Star’s wake), and starts to run to help him, but something pushes him back.

Or someone. He’s white-haired and haggard-looking, with the eyes of someone who hasn’t slept for days but still looks painfully alert, and he has Julio by the collar.

“Did you really think you were going to get the drop on us? Truly?” His voice is vicious and his expression is worse.

“Maybe you would have,” another voice cuts in, rough and grating, rumbling in its source’s chest like the growl of a cat, “if you hadn’t stopped to jump down each other’s throats in the stairwell.” He speaks with mixed amusement and disgust, and Julio can’t see him, but he can hear his footsteps, stalking around the balcony like a predator. “I could _hear_ you all the way up on the roof.”

"This can't be the first time you've done this." The white haired man narrows his eyes, pushing Julio back into the wall even further. "Unless your partner does all the dirty work." This, Julio should come to realize is Pietro Maximoff, the very man they came here to find torture and then dispose of. Funny how tables turn. There is an eerie silence from where 'Star was thrown through the window, like he hasn't moved since he made impact with the desks. "Doesn't say much about you, does it?" 

"Maybe they were just tryin’ ta find a romantic spot up on the roof." That same grating voice from out on the balcony calls but the footfalls on broken glass seem to indicate that he's coming closer as well. "I think," The voices owner finally comes into Julio's view and for all he sounds like a predator, he looks like one too. Just like 'Star said. Like a sabertooth cat. "I finally killed your boyfriend for good this time though." He sneers right in Julio's face. 

_No._ There’s no way -- that couldn’t be possible. It would take far more than being thrown through that window to even damage ‘Star, let alone kill him.

But he can’t see any signs of movement. Hell, he can’t see ‘Star at all, not with Pietro pinning him to the wall and the catlike man ( _Top Cat,_ Julio thinks, and almost cringes. _That was so obvious. Why didn’t I --?_ ) standing in front of him, blocking his view. Julio never panics but he is panicking now, and in his desperation he does something incredibly brave, and incredibly stupid.

He wriggles out of Pietro’s grip and kicks the catlike man directly between the legs.

It might have been inconsequential, had he not channeled a degree of seismic energy behind it all. He sends the man flying, and even manages a triumphant laugh before Pietro catches him again. 

"Neat trick. Want to see one of mine?" Pietro's grip tightens. "Let's see how fast I can accelerate your molecules before you explode." He's got all the intent to do just that before there is the sharp _snikt_ sound of two blades unsheathing from something and Pietro gasps wetly before being kicked out of Julio's line of sight and through the wall on the other side. 'Star is standing before him, panting with blood dripping from his nose and mouth. His sword is still sheathed at his side but it appears as if there were blades in his right arm guard that he used to dispose of Pietro. The twin blades are dripping with fresh blood before they retract back as if they were never even there at all. "His voice is irritating." 'Star finally says. 

There are a million different things Julio wants to say -- _what took you so long_ and _when did you get those swords_ and _I think you just saved my life_ and _I could kiss you_ and _yeah, I think I’m going to kiss you_ \-- but he doesn’t get a chance. He spots movement out of the corner of his eye, a shifting, ragged form that rises and approaches them both at an alarming speed, leaping through the air with a blood-chilling growl. 

Julio pushes ‘Star back and jumps away from him and by some miracle he’s actually fast enough. The catlike man misses them both, landing between them with his clawed hands outstretched to either side, like he doesn’t know where to look. Pietro seems to have vanished entirely.

'Star answers back with a rage filled and guttural growl of his own before he grabs one of the man's arms and twists until he hears a snap. Once he does, he steps forward before lifting him with startling ease and throwing him across the room and those desks and scarily close to the row of now broken windows. "You want to extinguish my life here tonight?!" 'Star yells it, stalking away from Julio over broken glass before drawing his sword properly. "You will have to try far better than that!" He kicks a desk out of the way, almost sending it crashing into another wall as he approaches the downed mutant. 

Normally, Julio would tell him to hold back, to secure the guy and press him for information. Not now. He doesn’t have much to base it on, but he’s getting the impression that this isn’t the kind of man you can bargain with, much less intimidate. He’s scared. He wants this mutant out of their lives as soon as possible, and he’s not going to stop ‘Star from making that happen. He follows close behind him, gathering power around his hands, ready to back him up if it’s needed. A fall from the window, even from this height, probably won’t kill the catlike man, but it could buy them time.

Julio's not going to need that plan, because letting the mutant fall to his death would be too swift a death in 'Star’s eyes. He kicks the last obstacle out of his way before he reaches the mutant who's just now beginning to pick himself up. 

"Stay down, coward." 'Star brings his foot up before slamming his boot down into the catlike man's chest with a sickening crunch. He looks down at him with narrowed eyes, gaze drifting over to his arm that he recalled severing. It's metal, a crude work up staring right at the elbow before honing into sharp claws at the end. It looks like it was created by someone who only marginally knew what they were doing. 

Even with a broken limb and now broken ribs, the mutant is grinning, blood pouring out of his mouth. "How’re yer guts holdin up?" he dares to ask. 

_Don't fuck around,_ Julio thinks desperately, as though he might spontaneously gain psychic powers in his hurry to convey this information to 'Star. Outwardly, he reveals nothing; doesn't break a sweat, or spare a concerned glance across to 'Star to warn him. Showing weakness -- even for a moment -- would only make the danger worse. Instead, he bluffs. "Stomp this hairball and let's move on. We have more important things to deal with tonight." Lie. Their end target was Pietro, and Pietro is gone. They should have anticipated this, should have done their research. 

Maybe they should have and maybe things would have gone a bit more smoothly, but they didn't and now 'Star is settling a score and Julio cannot even begin to imagine what is going on inside of his mind. He's normally ruthlessly efficient but as he looks at Sabertooth the angrier he gets and 'Star realizes that that is the fatal weakness. That is the thing that could quite possibly get he and Julio killed tonight. 

He doesn't waste anymore time, not a second. He raises his sword and cuts the man's head off in one gory sweep. Playing games with a target is only fun when there is respect to be had between them, when 'Star knows the battle would be as good if not better than the victory. This mutant deserved none of that. He was unworthy. "Disgusting,” he says afterward and he's not referring to the mess but to the mutant himself.

Julio exhales a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, and almost crumples as he does, as though that one held breath was the only thing keeping him standing straight. He looks down at the remains of the catlike man, and he doesn't look away until the blood stops issuing from the severed arteries in the man's neck and the tremor in his own hands has died down. 

"I --" he begins, then pauses, drawing a shaky breath. "I just had this really bad feeling, dude. I dunno how to explain it." The catlike man had claimed to have killed 'Star. Julio hadn't believed him for an instant, but -- but maybe just the thought of it was bad enough. 

"Are you injured?" 'Star turns slowly from the corpse, looking Julio up and down before taking a breath of his own and wiping the blood from his own nose and lip. The injuries that caused them in the first place have healed already, but they left a mess in their wake. He can feel some sort of pent up rage in his gut, something bubbling there just waiting to rise to the surface but he manages to push it all down as far as it will go. He'll find a better use for it, once he and Julio have made it out of this place. 

"Concussed, maybe," Julio admits, only really realizing as he says it. "From the wall." He reaches up to poke at the sore spot on the back of his head, wincing when he feels a lump of a bruise, and the stickiness of blood in his hair. "I'll be okay, 's long as I don't go to sleep. But you could probably keep me up for the rest of the night, couldn't you, _mi amor_?" The bravado is back, but only in his words; the rest of him is caught between nervous, wired, and exhausted, and all of it is too much for him to try and hide anymore. 

“I need to get my hands on Maximoff’s computer. We lost him -- an’ I’m sorry about that, by the way, man. That was… I think that was my fault.” It’s rare for him to admit to failing at something, to apologise, and even rarer still for him to mean his apology, but he is, and he does. There’s nothing he wants more than to just get out of here, to drive home and shower and sleep ( _or not,_ he reminds himself), but the whole night has been a disaster, and he’s not leaving empty-handed. Not after all of this.

“Can you,” Julio speaks as though there’s some strain on his breathing, and perhaps there is; the wound to his head might be the worst of his injuries, but it certainly isn’t the extent of them. “Cover the door for me? I won’t be long.” He takes a moment to gather the resolve to move, to straighten his shoulders despite the ache and exhaustion and make his way over to Maximoff’s desk. In the meantime, he reaches up with a corner of his scarf in hand and dabs at the blood on ‘Star’s face, relieved to see that the scars underneath have already healed. 

'Star doesn't flinch or recoil, in fact after all of that he leans into Julio's touch, understanding the nature of the gesture. It's starting to pour rain out now and lightning cracks across the sky lighting up the whole room. "Of course I'll cover you," he nods and he waits for Julio to go before he whispers the last part of the sentence out. " _Mi amor._ " He's picked up on the meaning, of that set of words especially because he's noticed Julio says it when he thinks he's far enough away that he cannot hear. If there was ever a moment that called for it, he supposes it was right then in the wake of everything else that's happened. 

After staring at Julio for just a moment more as he rifles through the ruined desk he makes his way to the door, flicking the blood off of his sword as he does. There isn't anyone else around, he knows it, and Pietro most likely used his mutation to flee as soon as he was injured. Super speed -- it means he also has a bit of a healing factor because of the makeup of his body. It's something 'Star will have to factor in the next time they meet.

Julio nudges the chair away from the desk with his foot, electing to stand in its place instead. If he sits down, he thinks he’ll be even less willing to get back up again once he’s done mining for information. He boots up the computer and unzips his jacket while he waits, reaching into one of the inside pockets and pulling out a flash drive. He keeps several, which is probably excessive, but who knows when you’re going to need one, right? 

The screen flickers into life. Pietro’s wallpaper is a photograph of himself and two women; one a brunette, and the other with the brightest green hair Julio has ever seen. He looks a lot younger in the image than he did in person.

Julio interlaces his fingers, cracks his knuckles, and begins to type.

It's a bit tedious to watch, but 'Star keeps glancing back at Julio and then down the ruined hallway. Pietro went through the wall and into a door on the other side where he hit with enough force to leave the wood cracked. There is fresh blood on the carpet and a trail that seems to all but vanish a few doors down. 'Star surmises that he must of had enough strength to use his powers, at least for a short time. He's soaking in all of these small details before he gets a thought. If Pietro was supposed to be depowered, then how did he manage that super speed? Were they given bad information or has he been dabbling with the product that he sells? 'Star flexes his hand, those twin blades popping out of the mechanism on his arm again. They are still covered in blood, at least thinly. They should find someone who can test for levels of MGH so they know exactly what they are up against. 

“Done,” Julio calls out, voice tapering out into a sigh. Staring at the computer screen in the dark -- even if it was for only a few minutes -- has worsened his headache considerably, and he’s tired; so, so much more tired than he should be. It’s definitely a concussion. He’s had them before, and this is what it always feels like, like he could fall asleep on his feet and rest for days. 

“Wasn’t kidding about keeping me awake, by the way,” he says, making his way back towards the door and stowing the flash drive in his pocket. “I can get us home, but I need you to keep talking to me. Give me something to focus on,” he suggests, and somehow he knows that ‘Star, like him, is thinking of that first night ‘Star showed up at the door of his apartment. “Doesn’t matter what.” He knows, logically, that he should be driving to Doug’s apartment/office first, instead of going straight home like he wants to, but that’s halfway across the city, further towards the outskirts than his own apartment is. Nowhere near the slums, of course, but close enough to look out on them, to see the torn, waterlogged edges of the city and the natural moat that surrounds it. It’s three AM. He can wait it out, and call Doug later in the morning. This isn’t exactly an emergency. Even if it was, he thinks he’d still just want to get home.

'Star actually looks concerned for a moment before it just turns to some sort of determined look. "Come with me for a moment," He's not any sort of medical doctor, but he has had to treat his own wounds from time to time. His healing factor prevents lasting effects of concussions, but he's had his head smashed against walls enough times to know that going home without any sort of treatment is not something they should be doing. 'Star takes Julio by the wrist, leading him into the ensuite bathroom attached to Pietro's office and grabbing a towel. He doesn't give any explanation on where they head next, silent the entire time they walk down the hall before they get to a vending machine area that thankfully has ice. 'Star finally lets go of Julio's wrist before taking the towel, filling it with ice and wrapping it up in a little bundle. "Here. Putting ice on your head wound will prevent swelling." He doesn't wait for Julio to take it, he does it for him. "I am going to carry you downstairs." It's not a matter of asking for permission anymore, he just scoops Julio up in the same manner he did, making sure the makeshift ice pack is still resting against his arm and Julio's head. 

“‘S really bright in here,” Julio observes, blinking up at the ceiling. His left pupil is a fraction wider than his right. “That’s -- that’s just me, isn’t it? It’s just me thinkin’ it’s too bright. That’s a symptom.” If ‘Star’s not going to keep him talking, he’ll have to do it himself. He doesn’t mention the spots in the corners of his vision, or the fact that every few blinks, he finds himself seeing double. He looks up at ‘Star when that happens, dimly considering the possibility of two ‘Stars, then deciding he probably couldn’t handle that. _Logical_ , he thinks, mentally applauding himself for his mental faculty despite his condition. “Thank you for the ice. It’s… it feels really gross back there. Like, _hella nasty._ ‘M gonna wash it when I get home. Might need your help, though.”

"I will help you wash your wound." 'Star refrains from saying that he will be the one washing it with no help from Julio, but he's being kind. Once they get to the elevators it's a few minute wait until it gets there in which 'Star decides to fill the silence that falls after Julio stops speaking. "Do you think that you could tell me a story, Julio?" He adjusts him in his arms just slightly, bringing him closer. "Perhaps one about --" He searches his mind to try and find something, to pull at anything that might keep the man in his arms talking. "What it might have been like if we had met when we were younger." It's something that just sort of comes to him as he watches the numbers on the elevator get closer to their floor. "If circumstances would have been different." There is really no point to go over something that is such an impossibility, but he's strangely curious and it will keep Julio's mind occupied.

Julio thinks about it. It comes to him quickly, which is a miracle of sorts; everything else in his brain seems obscured but these ideas shine like torches through the fog. “We could have met as teenagers,” Julio ventures, with a wonky sort of smile. “Could’ve been high school sweethearts.” He never attended high school, not properly, and he suspects ‘Star didn’t either, but that’s beside the point. Maybe they might have been kinder to each other, might have touched each other gently and laughed away their nerves and blushed even though the lights were off. Maybe they would have found each other before they both learned to be cruel. Maybe there might have been hope. Maybe he might have stumbled across ‘Star when he first fell to Earth, when he was new and bright enough to be wished upon, proverbially; they could have learned to be human together. Maybe he could have taken ‘Star to Mexico with him. He could’ve saved himself. He could’ve saved both of them.

“No,” he says, with a slight shake of his head, and a smile so sad it almost hurts on its own. “Nothing would’ve changed. Only difference is we would’ve been watching _Love Connection_ instead of _Jersey Shore._ ” He almost shudders. He used to hate _Love Connection._

'Star is not certain he believes that. In fact, he knows somehow that he doesn't. The chime of the elevators arriving breaks him out of his train of thought. "Maybe someplace we did meet,” he says as he steps into the elevator, nudging the button to head back down before looking right at Julio. His eyes are glazed over, but he's still got that sad smile on his face. 

"There are realities parallel to this one, other worlds that look like ours but are not." 'Star lifts a hand, grip still tight on Julio and brushes a stray lock of hair out of his face before he continues. "I traveled through time and space to get to earth. Past stars and other planets --" He trails off as he looks right into Julio's eyes. "So somewhere we are us but not. There is a tangent reality for all possibilities." Hope is the word that comes to 'Star's mind next. Some place they are living a life not so drenched in blood and violence. Some place where it doesn't rain all the time, where they can see the stars instead of clouds. Somewhere where they fall asleep to the sound of each other's heartbeats because all they need is each other. 

“I must be more out of it than I thought,” Julio mumbles, turning his head to hide his face in ‘Star’s jacket. “‘Cause for a second there, it almost sounded as though you were about to say something nice.” Any other time, he would think that the idea of ‘Star -- even an alternate ‘Star from a parallel reality -- being nice was an impossibility, too far-fetched to fit into this theory of everything imaginable being real, but now... 

He sees it. Maybe he’s seen it for a while. ‘Star is terrible, and he’s cruel, and he’s a killer, but there’s more to him than that, somewhere under the surface. He’s… well, he’s the smartest person Julio knows. He’s a little bit ridiculous. Sometimes, he’s even funny. He cares more about trashy soap operas than he does about people, and he’d probably subsist entirely on chocolate ice-cream if he was allowed to, and sometimes he falls asleep curled up on the end of Julio’s bed, like a cat. Julio can count the amount of times he’s heard it on one hand, but ‘Star has, probably, the most adorable laugh he’s ever heard.

 _There might be other guys like you, in other worlds,_ Julio thinks, peering out from behind the collar of ‘Star’s jacket to glance up at him, _but if I had to choose, I’d pick you over all of them._

He’s just disoriented enough that he doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud.

'Star doesn't look surprised however. In fact, he smiles just a little. "With everything," he tilts his head down just a small bit. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Julio." He kisses his forehead and the elevator reaches the bottom floor. He knows with certainty that there are other Julio's out there -- other versions of himself as well, but he knows he'd choose this Julio as well. "Thank you for obliging me," 'Star says as he walks them out of them lobby and out the front door. It's stopped raining for right now which should make it easier to get home. He'd thought about making Julio go right to the doctor, but it seems he's a little more cognizant than he was a few moments ago. As it stands however, he's not going to be able to drive or at least shouldn't drive.

That may be a fight for another time though. "Let's go home."


	6. Going For The Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys are back on the trail of the elusive dealers, but not before Julio gets a little well-needed TLC.

Even in his disoriented state Julio manages to talk ‘Star into letting him drive home. Or rather, he manages to throw enough of a tantrum over the concept of ‘Star -- who, as far as he knows, doesn’t even have a license -- getting behind Luz’s wheel that the other man just relents. He makes the trip without incident, helped through it by keeping conversation with ‘Star and by the fact that driving fast always keeps him more alert. He does, however, throw up into the gutter immediately after exiting the car (“Before you say anything,” he mumbles, turning away from ‘Star and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, “that wasn’t because of my reckless driving.”).

His first stop once they’re home and inside the apartment is the bathroom. He sheds his clothes on the way, stumbling when it comes time to step out of his pants (he’d forgotten to take his shoes off first, which is annoying, but minimal compared to the other things that could have slipped his mind), and he’s naked by the time he gets to the shower, aside from his socks and his underwear. He forgets about those, too, right up until he’s turned on the taps and stepped under the water.

"Julio." 'Star is standing there looking at him, already nude and ready to help him in the shower. "In order to clean yourself properly you need to remove the rest of your clothing." There might be a bit of a laugh mixed with the concern, but Julio is delirious so it's not like he'll remember. ‘Star steps into the shower without another word, taking Julio gently by the shoulder before removing his socks and then his underwear and tossing the wet clothes onto the floor. "There." 'Star steers him back under the hot spray, turning down the pressure just slightly as to not irritate his wound. 

“Forgot,” Julio explains, letting ‘Star guide him back under the water. “‘M sorry. You’re not mad, are you?” He almost sounds serious but it’s difficult to tell; the shower is loud, and his voice is nothing more than a mumble. Under the bathroom lights, it becomes clear that he’s sustained injuries other than the head wound. His back is covered with bruises, every colour from sickly yellow to almost black at the evident point of impact, and there are scratches on his hands and his face, tiny hairline cuts that might have come from the broken glass. He doesn’t remember. That part is probably the worst. 

“I feel like hell,” he admits, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I hate this. This isn’t a sexy shower.” He sounds genuinely disappointed. “You have to promise that we’ll have a shower together sometime when my brain isn’t leaking out of my ears.”

"If that is what you want after this, anything." 'Star is feeling gracious and not just because he's taking pity on Julio's condition. A normal human, a lesser human would have been completely ruined by what happened, but not Julio. With some help he was able to get all the way back here with minimal problems. Aside from the vomiting. 

'Star pushes Julio's wet hair out of his face before turning him around again and examining his wound. It's not as bad as he expected, but it's still suboptimal. He leans forward and kisses the skin around the wound before making sure to rinse it completely. "Talk to me more while I clean you up." It seems like the least he can do considering Julio put his organs back inside of his body. 

“Maybe this was all just a carefully executed plot to get you to ask me that,” Julio suggests, managing a weak sort of smile even though ‘Star isn’t in a position to see it. “Y’know, ‘cause normally you’re always saying I talk too much.” Even when he’s concussed he’s insufferable, and even when he’s aware of it, he can’t stop himself. “But… thank you. If you weren’t there…” Technically if ‘Star wasn’t there Julio wouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place, but he finds he doesn’t really regret it. 

“Well. Y’know.” He doesn’t elaborate, nor does he need to. “I’m glad you’re my partner, partner.”

"If it was, you should make it a point to come up with a plan that is not as sloppy." 'Star’s comment is good natured, even if it is a bit biting. "And you do talk too much. You simply have an excuse now." He surveys the wound again after he's washed it clean. It looks like the impact of the wall only just broke the skin, but still…

"Hold still for a moment." 'Star surveys Julio's sad excuse for shampoo before turning away from it and grabbing his own, letting the yellow liquid pour out into his hands. The shower suddenly smells like lemons and ‘Star has a smile on his face when he starts washing Julio's hair.

Julio’s initial wince of pain turns into a pleasured hum as ‘Star’s hands move from the wound to the undamaged parts of his scalp. He leans back against ‘Star’s chest, partially because he wants to and partially because he’s still feeling a bit unsteady on his feet. 

“My plans are usually solid,” he says, arguing for the sake of arguing, but doing it gently. “I mean, this one was a total fuck-up, but it was going fine at the start.” He pauses to wipe suds from his hairline before they can reach his eyes. “Nice throw, by the way. Told you I could stick the landing.”

"I wish we would have had more time to celebrate it." 'Star knows their plan was solid at the beginning but there was no way they could have known that someone would be lying in wait in the other building. "I can toss you into or out of a building again sometime, if that is something you'd _be into._ " He puts a little inflection on the last part as if he's mocking Julio but it's followed by a short laugh and he continues to wash his hair. He lets his hand travel down the path of bruises on his neck before pushing him forward slightly to wash out the suds.

“Maybe some other time,” Julio tells him, only half joking. It’s rare that he gets the chance to see ‘Star use the extent of his strength and rarer still that he gets to experience it first hand. It’s difficult to wrap his head around, especially now, but he supposes ‘Star must be holding back most of the time. That even when he seems wild he’s precise, and his every movement is calculated. The thought of it all makes Julio shiver. 

He turns around once ‘Star has finished washing out the shampoo, slipping his arms around ‘Star’s shoulders and pressing against him, chest to toes. “Listen, uh, maybe my memory’s still shot because of the concussion, but do I recall you saying somethin’ about me requiring more kissing, earlier tonight?” Actually, he’s pretty sure he remembers it perfectly even if a lot of other things are hazy. 

"Are you sure that's not something you want to save for the sexy shower?" 'Star raises an eyebrow before he leans forward and steals a brief kiss. "Besides, I am not finished with your hair." He grabs another bottle and squirts some of its fruit-scented contents out in his hands before starting on Julio's hair again. 'Star is rather hell bent on cleaning him properly, or at least in the same way he personally does. He has a ritual for almost everything and the shower is no different. 

“I don’t wanna wait,” Julio complains (and when does he ever?), but he doesn’t resist. ‘Star’s touch is unusually gentle and his hands are unfairly talented (Julio doesn’t know if _talented_ is the right word -- does ‘Star even know what he’s doing or how good this feels, or is it a coincidence?), and Julio would like to think that he can recognize a good thing when it’s happening, and that he has the sense to let it happen when it does. 

“This one smells better than the other one,” he decides out loud. “More like you, anyway.” He hadn’t realized it before, that this smell must have come from a bottle instead of just lingering around ‘Star naturally. He’d never thought to associate it with anything, let alone with fruit-smelling shampoo, before just then. It makes him wonder whether ‘Star on his own actually smells like anything at all. Perhaps he doesn’t. It could be a survival thing, part of his mutation or a trait of his species; something that makes him difficult to track, perhaps. 

"I like both of them." 'Star moves him forward again and the water washes the conditioner out. "And perhaps if you ask a little more nicely, I will give you all the kisses you require." He keeps his distance just a bit before letting his fingers curl against Julio's cheek. He looks better now and slightly more alert, it's a bit of a relief and he's not entirely sure why. 

"You are going to go right to sleep when you get out of here. For about a half hour at a time. I will make sure I wake you up in intervals." It's the best thing he can do before they actually get to a doctor. Perhaps one won't even be necessary in the morning.

"That’s awful, man,” Julio says, but his lopsided smile is audible in his voice. “I got the living shit beat out of me tonight and you’re still denying me kisses? I could be _dying._ ” Even in his weakened state, he refuses to give in to teasing. “And when did you learn how to treat a concussion?” He experiences a brief flicker of a thought, fancying that ‘Star might have read up on first aid just in case something like this happened. To him. His _partner._

 _Wow_ , he thinks. _I really am out of it._

“Doesn’t sound like much fun,” he says, of ‘Star waking him up periodically to check on him. It’s for the best, obviously, but part of him (the illogical part, and that’s a pretty large part comparatively) just wants to sleep for a week. “But, uh, thank you. And I think I know what you can wake me up with…”

"Do you now? Enlighten me, why don't you." 'Star takes his hand and slips it into Julio's wet hair, pushing it out of his eyes before leaning in and kissing him. He might have just asked him to explain, but he also was in a bit to close of a proximity to not give him a kiss. It's short, but 'Star takes the time to lick Julio's bottom lip when he pulls back. 

"Let me know exactly what I can wake you up with. In fact better yet, why don't you tell me what we'd have done if our mission hadn't failed tonight." 'Star knows that nothing gets Julio aroused more than a mission accomplished. Something done correct and to the letter. He's interested to hear how he would have celebrated. "Would you have insisted on drinking champagne like the last time?" 'Star still has Julio's hair pushed back. "Instead of drinking it from the bottle perhaps you'd allow me to pour you a glass." He leans in close to his ear. "To _serve_ you." He punctuates the middle word. 

“Oh,” Julio says, blinking. In actuality, he was just going to ask ‘Star to kiss him awake, but his previous thoughts about recognising a good thing when it’s happening come to mind again, and he repeats them like a mantra in his still-aching head. _Oh,_ indeed. “Didn’t seem like the right time to tell you, before, but you did well tonight. So,” he punctuates his words with kisses to ‘Star’s jaw, and his neck, and his throat, “so well.” It’s true. ‘Star followed his plan to the letter. He thinks he could get used to that. “It’s a shame I have to tell you that, though. I would’ve preferred to just show you.”

"Maybe you can give me my reward some other time? Perhaps tonight when you're feeling better?" 'Star pushes and he's slowly sinking into that mood which is not the best considering Julio's condition. "Either way I will wake you up with kisses." He says it sweetly before leaning down and away from Julio to grab the soap and lathering it all over their bodies slowly. 

“If the kisses don’t work,” Julio says, although he’s fairly sure that they will, “maybe you’ll need to go further.” That isn’t just permission, it’s almost a request. He senses the change in mood almost as soon as ‘Star does. It’s something in the other man’s demeanor, and in his voice; he goes from being physically imposing to seeming almost pliable, like every fibre of his being is begging to be held, to be lifted up, to sit in Julio’s lap and squirm under his touch. Every sentence, every word is a plea, and all of them are irresistible, just like ‘Star himself. It might just be the concussion talking, but Julio thinks he might be a little bit in love. 

“You can sit by the bed while I sleep. Watch me. Devote your time -- no, devote _yourself_ to me, just for tonight.” He looks up at ‘Star, with the lazy grin of a crocodile, though nowhere near as malicious. ‘Star might tower over him, but he’s powerful; he’s a presence and a focal point, and ‘Star is in his orbit. “And if I wake up to you sucking my cock, I’ll reward you however you want.”

"Sucking your cock --" 'Star leans over and whispers in his ear. "Licking you clean -- devoting myself to you completely." He licks his wet earlobe, tasting soap but not caring. When 'Star gets in this mood he really needs what he's asking for and in this case that fact that he's already been caring for Julio has sort of brought it out in him. 

"But before any of that, let me get you out of the shower and resting before your head trauma gets any worse." He can't imagine it would be, but you never know. 'Star rinses both of them off and then moves to turn the shower off, pulling back the curtain and lifting Julio out before follow behind him. He picks out what he thinks are the fluffiest looking towels and drapes them over Julio, gently drying him.

“I feel dizzy,” Julio admits, feeling behind him for the wall and then bracing himself when his head spins and hot lights burst in his peripheral vision. He can’t tell if the shower made it better or worse; whether the water brought him back to life, or whether the steam floated in through his nose and ears and fogged up the corners of his mind like the glass of the shower stall. 

“I need --” he starts to say, then pauses, frowning at the sudden absence of words. “I need a lot of things,” he manages, finally, as ‘Star finishes towelling him off and peers up at him with a curious tilt of his head. “You, mostly. And I also need to sleep.” He hates to admit it, but he thinks he might need the second one first. “Can you take me to bed? I mean, uh, carry me to bed. Or… either way, I guess, but if you’re gonna start doing stuff I can’t guarantee that I won’t puke on you sometime during.” He regrets voicing that. Somehow, admitting to it makes him feel even worse. 

"Let's get you to bed." 'Stars tone is hushed and he lifts Julio easily, carrying him to bed while he's still swaddled in a towel. Once there, 'Star adjusts him and wraps a towel around his wound as a makeshift bandage. It looks a little strange but it will work for now. 

"Lay back," His voice is still gentle but commanding as well, pushing Julio backward a little and onto the fluffy pillows. He surveys him for a moment before rethinking that instruction. "Hold on --" He pushes Julio onto his side. "Lay like this so if you vomit you will not choke on it." It's almost an afterthought but it's a very real possibility. "I will not let you die in such a way." 

“I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t let me die at all,” Julio jokes, rather weakly, with a raised eyebrow. He gathers the blanket in his arms, cuddling it to his chest and folding his legs around it instead of draping it over himself. He probably looks about as vulnerable as he feels. “You’re gonna stay with me, right? Like you said?” He’s seeing double again, and he can only hope that the ‘Star he’s making eye contact with is the correct one and not the copy. 

"I am going to stay with you. Close your eyes Julio." 'Star puts a hand on his head before climbing into bed with him. He takes a breath before his fingers move, threading into Julio's hair soothingly as he tries to comfort him in really the only way he knows how. He likes being petted and soothed like this so it is only natural that Julio would like it as well, right? "I'll be here when you wake up." Or when he wakes him up which might be in all manner of ways but he's leaning towards just shaking him awake due to his condition. 

"Are you gonna sing me a lullaby?" Julio asks, his subsequent laugh fading out into a yawn. "Sorry. Bad joke." He yawns again, pulling the blankets closer to his chest and blinking up at 'Star with heavy-lidded eyes. " _Buenas noches, corazón,_ " he says, voice thick with sleep, and then he closes his eyes, nuzzles into the pillows and goes out like a light.

He slips almost instantly into dreaming.

\--

The sound of humming cuts through the blackness of the dark room. 'Star's shut the lights off in hopes of making it easier for Julio to rest, and now as he sits and watches the other man all that's visible is his white eye that glows slightly in the dark. And he's still humming. 

It's been about four hours and 'Star has let Julio sleep through most of it, waking him up now and again to make sure he wakes up. He did it the first couple of times with a kiss and the last time, which was about two hours ago, by tracing the outline of his cock with two fingers. He actually laughed at the way Julio jumped. 

Now 'Star is just watching, watching him in the dark and humming the theme song for one of those 90's sitcoms he has tapes of. _Step by Step_ is one of his favorites. He thinks that maybe he likes it so much because the intro had a amusement park in it and he always figured he'd like to go to an amusement park some day. With rollercoasters and Ferris Wheels and caramel popcorn. _Hmm._ Maybe he can convince Julio to get him some caramel popcorn if they have it at the store, or maybe that's exclusive to amusement parks...

"Stop thinkin' so hard, you're keeping me awake." Or maybe that's just the humming. Julio's voice is rough with sleep and muffled against the pillows. He shifts, moving from being almost face-down with the blankets bundled under him to laying on his side and peeking over at 'Star through one partially-opened eye. 

Cautiously he opens the other, grateful to find that his vision has finally refocused and most of the bright spots he sees whenever he moves too fast have faded. His head still aches, but it's dull, a quiet pulse in the distance instead of a close-by roar. He's suddenly very thirsty, and his dry throat inflects his voice when he asks: "what's on your mind, _cariño?_ "

"I got you a glass of water and also some pain medication I found in the bathroom." 'Star pats Julio on the head gently. "You should take it and get back to sleep." He avoids the questions but only because he doesn't know how to answer it. Ever since figuring out what Julio is saying when he whispers in the other language of his it's become a bit hard to not feel the tingle of something strangely warm in his chest. He'll keep that a secret a little longer, he supposes, and when Julio tries to tell him a lie when he brings it up again, that's when he'll strike. 

Julio frowns. He can tell ‘Star’s thinking about something; he had this expression on his face when he thought Julio wasn’t looking, contemplative and almost wistful. He wonders if ‘Star does that often, if he allows himself to feel things and to show it when Julio isn’t around to witness it. If so, that’s terribly unfair. He wants to know… whatever it is. Even if it’s something stupid.

It’s probably something stupid. Chocolate ice-cream or marathoning both Freaky Friday films or how much force it would take to squeeze a person’s eyeballs out of their skull. Still. Julio thinks he wants to know anyway.

“I’ll take the painkillers,” Julio begins to say, his usual bargaining skills dampened somewhat by the sleep in his voice, “if you come over here and hug me.” A hug isn’t what he wants. What he’s actually looking for is a snuggle, for ‘Star to take the place of the blankets he’s been holding to his chest for the past few hours. He’ll get to that, though, in time.

'Star rolls his eyes but it's affectionate mostly. He gets up and stalks over to the bed, sliding into bed and scooping Julio up in something that's halfway between a hug and the aforementioned snuggle that Julio wanted but didn't ask for. "How are you feeling?" He presses his lips close to Julio's ear before he kisses it. 

“Better,” Julio says, without thinking, then backpedals immediately. “But still awful,” he clarifies, and at least it’s not too much of an exaggeration. He loops his arms around ‘Star’s waist, suddenly very concerned that he might try to get away. Maybe he doesn’t need those painkillers. Maybe he could just fall asleep right here, with his head against ‘Star’s chest, and the smell of ‘Star’s soap lingering on his pillow. _That’s you,_ he reminds himself, somewhat hazily. _That’s your scent now, just as much as it is his._ He’s too sleepy to explain it, even to himself, but the thought of it brings an unexpected warmth to his chest.

“I still wanna know what you were thinking about,” Julio mumbles, but before ‘Star can reply, he’s already asleep.

\--

The sun actually pouring into the window makes Julio's bedroom brighter than in been in ages, but it's maybe not the best thing to wake up to when you've suffered a concussion. 'Star fell asleep sometime after tending to Julio last and figuring that he may just be okay to sleep for a little while longer. He's sprawled out on the bed, body curled at the foot and legs up by Julio's head. It's impossible to tell if he migrated there over the course of the night or he just fell asleep like that. Either way, he's still softly snoring, most clothing aside from one of the few pairs of underwear he owns stripped off beside the bed. He tucked Julio in with the top blanket when the other man had finally fallen into a peaceful sleep, making sure to arrange the pillows in a comfortable manner as well. He'll be grateful for it when he wakes up. At least he'd better be. 

When Julio opens his eyes the first thing he sees is the light from the window, warm and buttery yellow and --

“Gross,” he announces, and closes his eyes again, but the damage is already done. His head is pounding. He really, _really_ needs to pee. He turns his head away from the window and musters the courage to open his eyes again. ‘Star’s feet are touching his pillow. 

“ _Gross,_ ” he repeats, louder this time, sitting up far too quickly. He blinks against the fog that builds at the corners of his vision, and tugs the pillow out from under ‘Star’s feet. ‘Star doesn’t even stir. Julio is still cranky -- mostly from the headache -- but as he thinks back to the events of the previous night he feels it subside, at least a little. He’s not sure he remembers it all, which isn’t unusual for a concussion, but what he does recall was… almost sweet.

Or perhaps it was so awful that his brain has decided to spare him the anguish by wiping it entirely and replacing it with some ridiculous fantasy about ‘Star taking care of him. Either way, Julio decides it might be best to kiss him in thanks _before_ he wakes up and breaks the illusion. 

He presses his lips to ‘Star’s temple, far more gentle than he’d even consider if ‘Star were awake, and reaches out to stroke his hair, practically petting him. If he’s going to keep sleeping like a cat, then it only follows that Julio should pet him like one. 

That doesn't cause 'Star to wake up either and perhaps if he was a cat, he might just purr. He hums rather happily instead, stretching out just a bit and tucking his feet under Julio's pillow. It's not that he was particularly exhausted after taking care of Julio, but his healing factor did have to work to heal any injuries after being thrown through that window. It was only a matter of time before he found himself bored enough to lay down and actually fall asleep. If 'Star had been awake, he might have actually hit Julio for calling his feet gross. They are quite clean and perfectly hygienic.

Julio grumbles, but elects not to wake him. He gives his hair one final, lingering caress, then rolls out of bed, padding quietly across the floor and out into the living room in search of coffee.

He messes it up no less than three times. The first time he forgets to boil the water, the second he gets distracted by his own thoughts and fills the mug until it overflows, and the third simply ends up on the carpet when ‘Star clears his throat from the doorway, making Julio jump. He grumbles something distinctly unpleasant at him in Spanish, and moves to pick up the remnants of the broken coffee mug. 

“Did you really stay up to make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit last night, or was that just a weird dream?” he asks, deciding to be upfront about it. 

"I stayed up to ensure you did not choke, yes. Asphyxiating on your own vomit would have been a very unpleasant way to die," 'Star explains, as if there are pleasant ways to die. "You should still be in bed. If you require coffee or sustenance I will get you something." He's stern but it's not unkind. If anything he's slightly amused that Julio dropped his coffee cup and even more so that he thinks he doesn't understand what he says when he speaks in Spanish. 

One thing at a time. "If you resist resting I will simply take you back to your room and tie you to the bed." He's not joking and it isn't laden with innuendo either. 

“Don’t,” Julio groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in vexation. “Don’t even -- that’s teasing, man, and it’s rude. You can’t do that to me. I’m _sick._ ” He’s going to keep pulling the sick card for as long as he can get away with it, he decides. He’ll know when it’s no longer working. ‘Star will probably lash out at him somehow and end up giving him another concussion out of spite. Julio is genuinely looking forward to it. 

“I’m gonna,” he yawns, “rest on the couch. Is that okay? Do you have some kind of issue with that?” He’s irritable, but it’s more from the lack of caffeine than any side-effect of his headache or his injuries or his annoyance at having to be looked after. He’s still confused about that. How much of that actually happened, and how much is merely conjecture, or worse, fantasy? 

He frowns, and looks up at ‘Star sharply. “Did you wash my hair last night?” It sounds almost accusatory. “I mean -- did we shower together, and did you wash my hair for me, ‘cause I seem to remember --”

'Star rolls his eyes. It seems as if he's going to have to recount all the things that he did last night. "I carried you inside and we showered together. While we were bathing I cleaned your head wound and subsequently washed your hair." He crosses his arms and leans against the wall. "After that I dried you and put you to bed. Does that sufficiently fill all the gaps in your memory?" 'Star looks up at Julio expectantly. "Because I can go into more detail if you require it." 

Julio narrows his eyes. “No,” he says, with a suspicious glance, “I think I remember now.” He lays back on the couch, folding his arms behind his head, and watches ‘Star as he moves back into the kitchen and starts making the coffee, with marginally more success than Julio had during his previous attempt. 

He doesn’t comment again until ‘Star brings him a replacement mug of coffee, which is too hot (almost scalding) but which smells almost magical. He sits up, and accepts the mug, and says, very casually: “So are you still interested in -- what was it? -- _devoting yourself to me completely?_ Or was that just somethin’ you said to keep me awake?”

"I would not be opposed to it, if you cooperate and rest properly." 'Star doesn't sit, continuing to stand and just in that pair of underwear still. Under any normal circumstance he might have poured the scalding coffee all over Julio's lap for a comment like that, but as it stands he's being generous. "You made it through the night and now," 'Star gives him a once over before he gets down on his knees at the side of the couch. "Perhaps you can properly reward me for devoting myself to you." He rests his head on Julio's lap. He might look a little rough around the edges this morning or -- afternoon, but until Julio has recovered fully, 'Star will continue to take care of him and reap the rewards of such things. 

Julio sips his coffee, and replies in a voice that’s slightly less heavy with sleep and slightly more attentive. “What did you have in mind?” he asks, reaching out to pet ‘Star’s hair again. He responds just as well to it awake as he did while sleeping or maybe better; now, Julio thinks, all he needs is a collar. Perhaps the kind with a bell on it, just in case he’s still harboring ideas about leaving the house without permission again. Looking at him now, though, that seems unlikely. 

But one does never know. "This will do for now." 'Star is content, which is usually not necessarily abnormal, but in this context it might be. "Until you're feeling well enough that I may properly suck your cock." He murmurs out, eyes half lidded as Julio pets him. Sometimes simple is good and even though this dynamic is anything but, they can both enjoy it before something necessitates a change. 

"I'm well enough," Julio says a little too quickly. "I mean -- you've been so good, 'Star. Such a good boy." His tone has taken a turn for the decidedly dark, and the hand that was petting 'Star's head is now slipping into his hair and slowly, cautiously guiding his head back. "You never took me up on this last night. You were waiting for me to get better, and that's good. I can respect that decision. But --" he looks into 'Star's eyes, wide blue and white meeting lust-darkened brown. "-- I'm better. Thanks to you. And I know you want this just as much as I do."

There is a small moan that sounds from the back of 'Star's throat in agreement with that and after he takes a moment to observe Julio he decides that maybe he is will enough to enjoy it. Julio is nude, which makes this next part decidedly easy. 'Star leans down and licks a stripe from Julio's thigh to his hipbone, peppering the skin afterward with kisses as he shifts but never moves out of the other man's grip. He knows what he's doing and what he wants and he buries his nose in the hair trailing from his stomach down to his cock and takes a deep breath. 

"You like that, don't you?" Julio's voice isn't taunting, but rather soft, and genuinely curious. He has an inkling, a small fraction of an idea that 'Star holds special interest in his hair, and the way he smells, and everything else that sets them apart. His early attempts at finding out more have been met with harsh words or harsher action, but this time he knows he has a chance. 'Star, for whatever reason, is his and only his for the next hour or so (longer, if Julio plays his cards right, and prolongs this mood, this strange headspace), and Julio knows he's unlikely to be refused. "You're into the way I smell. That's okay, dude. It's good. I'm flattered."

'Star takes another breath, which should be enough of an indication that Julio is very much correct in his assumption. He groans in response, getting closer to Julio's cock as he goes and when he finally gets there he nuzzles against it before licking the tip clean of the wetness beading there. 'Star licks in long strokes as he continues, all the way down Julio's cock to the base and back up again, taking special care when he gets back to the tip before sucking it into his mouth with a moan. 

Julio doesn’t tighten his grip on ‘Star’s hair because he doesn’t need to, but he does keep his hand steady there. “Good,” he breathes in encouragement, sinking back into the couch cushions and closing his eyes. “This is so -- this is exactly what I needed, ‘Star. Thank you. You’re too good to me.” He keeps his voice quiet, and resists the urge to buck up into ‘Star’s mouth; they so rarely get the chance to be gentle even when ‘Star is in a mood like this, and Julio intends to savor it. 

That, and he’s pretty sure he might pass out if he moves too much. 

‘Star is taking care to suck gently, sucking just on the tip before venturing down and swallowing Julio whole. He braces himself against Julio's thighs, digging his fingers in gently to rub them. It's a balance, 'Star thinks as he sucks. If he overwhelms Julio too much he might pass out, but not enough and he won't get up hear all those wonderful words of praise pour from his lips. He doesn't want that to stop. He almost dreads it. 

“Is this your reward or mine?” Julio wonders out loud. His tone is soft, almost like the kind of voice you might use to soothe an animal, though with an added edge of something difficult to explain. “‘Cause I can’t tell anymore. And not just because of the concussion.” Although that’s probably a factor. 

“You’ve gotten so good at this,” he adds, letting his fingers slip from ‘Star’s hair so he can pet his head again instead. “You’re such a fast learner, it’s almost scary. But…” he moans quietly, giving in to the urge to gently push ‘Star’s head down further, holding him there, “I wouldn’t mind giving you a little more practice.”

'Star just hums around him, content to suck as he's petted. He knows that there will come a point in time when Julio is so caught up in sensation that he won't be petting, but for now it is nice. He keeps his movements gentle and slow, letting Julio fall out of his mouth but only to lick up leftover trails of saliva when they drip. It's messy but concise and once 'Star is done licking his cock clean it's time for him to nudge Julio's legs a little further apart so he can lick his balls. He flicks his tongue out to take special care of one before moving to the other, intent on truly doting on him. Every action, every lick tips the scales further between them so that sometime in the near future, he hopes Julio will do this for him with the same amount of revere and gentleness. It's something 'Star craves and he doesn't know why exactly. 

“Hey,” Julio murmurs, halting him in the middle of it and guiding his head back. “Sit back a little. Let me --” he gives up on explaining in favor of just acting, shifting back on the couch and raising his legs to rest them on ‘Star’s shoulders. Something about that -- about leaning on him, laying back with his feet up and ‘Star on his knees in front of him -- makes him smile, and speaks to that same darker part of him that surfaces when he’s fighting, or when he’s giving orders, and apparently when...

When he's being sucked off by a man who's more akin to an animal than anything else. 'Star feels something twitch inside of him when Julio puts his feet up, a strange sort of satisfied feeling pulse inside of him. Like many emotions for 'Star it's indescribable, mostly because he doesn't understand the root of what causes it in the first place. If he had to assume, he supposes that he falls into this space where Julio leads him around and commands him because he is always so in control. Because his work and his life have always commanded it. Julio has proven himself to be someone he can trust and that trust has brought them this. He can trust Julio to be in control when he wants to relinquish it. Despite the change in position 'Star continuities licking, sucking sensitive skin into his mouth before moving back to steal the stickiness dripping from the tip of Julio's cock. 

"That's it," Julio purrs, stroking 'Star's hair back. He finds himself wondering again what 'Star would look like if his hair were longer; perhaps tied in a bun like Julio's, or loose around his shoulders, or maybe longer still. As it is, he has just enough for Julio to thread his fingers through and pull. Not that he would do that now, of course. Later, when they're at each other's throats again, he will. He’ll grab a fistful of it and yank his head back and laugh when he does it, but for now, he won’t so much as lay a finger on ‘Star unless he asks for it. For now, ‘Star belongs to him, and if nothing else Julio always takes excellent care of the things he owns.

All of the petting is making 'Star so hard and his cheeks flush, opening his mouth a little bit wider to take Julio down more. His mind flicks to other, briefer fantasies about being on all fours and having Julio put his feet up on his back as if he were simply made for the task, and another that involves kissing and licking said feet. 'Star manages to shake them from his mind and focus on the task in front of him for now, making a terribly wet noise as he sucks Julio down all the way and moans around him when he does, just staying there for a moment to indulge in his mouth being so full of the other man.

“Mm,” Julio hums, squirming against the cushions in an attempt to keep himself from bucking up again. ‘Star’s mouth is almost unbearably hot and it’s perfect, too perfect, and he knows he’s not going to last long. 

“‘Star -- _mi amor_ \-- move back. Let me finish on your face. Can I do that?” He suspects he already knows the answer but ‘Star deserves to be asked, and Julio wants to hear him ask for it in return. “I’ll clean you off after, I promise. A guy’s gotta keep his stuff in good condition, right?” He’s teasing, mostly. Probably. 

'Star moves off of him with a wet pop and licks his lips. "Please do,” he says rather blissfully, so many thoughts running through his head and one prompting him to speak up. "But -- while you stroke yourself to completion I would like to hear what you would like me to do for you most." He's wondering if it's something like what he is thinking about or if it is a bloodier fantasy, something dark and twisted and perhaps descriptive enough that 'Star might come just from the very thought of it. He licks his lips again as if to prompt Julio for it again.

“I,” Julio begins, then actually almost laughs, lips twisting into an awkward sort of smile as he tries to stop himself. He waits until ‘Star is kneeling expectantly in front of him to continue to speak, and then he begins to stroke himself, slow and almost lazy with a practiced flick of his wrist. 

“Don’t laugh,” he says, in that husky voice he reserves for occasions like this. “An’ I don’t actually want you to do it -- I wouldn’t even let you breathe on her, let alone touch her -- but I’ve, uh. I’ve got this thing about you and me and Luz.” Just admitting it out loud makes panic rise in his chest, but it’s nothing compared to how much the thought of it turns him on. “Actually, a lot of things. I’ve thought about letting you wash her… you know those shorts I got mad at you for wearing? The red ones? You could wear those.” He pauses, and smirks almost devilishly, and adds: “or you could _not_ wear them.” 

He quickens his pace, letting his eyes flutter closed for just a moment before staring down at ‘Star and continuing to talk. “But that’s not even the half of it. I keep thinkin’ about parking somewhere quiet after a job, and --” the noise that punctuates his sentence is somewhere between a short laugh and a whimper, as ‘Star leans forward and kisses the tip of his cock. “-- And about you, uh, pulling me into the back seat and having your way with me. Fogging up the windows, y’know. Or,” and this one is the worst, but he’s so worked up right now that it almost seems like a good idea, “you could skip the bullshit with the back seat and just bend me over the hood.” When he plays back through the fantasy (it’s something he’s thought about so many times he’s lost count), he sees ‘Star holding him down as he fucks him from behind, pressing his face against the paintwork. 

That is not what 'Star had been expecting but the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. The car is a point of pride for Julio and as he licks the tip of his cock again, he feels a surge of something electric when he thinks about being a precious possession to the other man just like his car and his motorbike. 'Star wonders what Julio might do if anyone propositioned him, flirted with him out in public in the brash way Julio himself does. He might let it happen if only to see the reaction. "I'd only do what you might allow." His blue eyes almost glow as he says it.

Julio looks down at him and sees unexpected intrigue in his expression. He wonders what did it -- the fantasies themselves, or the clear implication that he was to be owned, if only for a while, to be considered with the same possessiveness (and, by association, the same level of care, and the same kind of love) that Julio holds for Luz. 

He realizes he’d probably kill someone if they dared to lay a hand on ‘Star, as well. Maybe there’s something to that comparison after all.

“Well,” Julio says, with a smile tugging at his lips as he brings himself to climax, “where’s the fun in that?”

\--

Where is the fun in that indeed. 'Star echoes that sentiment from the other day as he sips a soda in the corner of the bar they have found themselves in. Honestly, he didn't know that the opportunity would have presented itself to test his theory about Julio so close to when he first thought about it. They are here for as much work as pleasure, keeping an eye on someone who is supposed to be dealing MGH at this bar specifically. If they can catch them here then they might just have a direct route back to wherever Pietro Maximoff has run off to. It's a gamble and 'Star is a little more than displeased with this particular tactic but he assumes Julio chose this place specifically so he could dress him up in tight leather pants and a matching jacket. He's attempting show him off just like he would Luz. It's irritating but also intriguing. 

If it were his choice Julio would much rather be up by the bar itself, in the centre of the room knocking back shots with 'Star hanging off his arm than standing around in this dim and dusty corner cradling his third and last beer of the night. 'Star had made him promise. He scans the crowd, looking for anyone who matches the description they were given. It's busy though, and the lights are low everywhere except around the bar itself. He gets so caught up in watching the blur of faces and movement and glittering light on glasses that he almost misses the man who sidles up to 'Star while his back is turned.

"And who are you?" The man almost corners 'Star up against the wall, all smoothness and an air of confidence that is only there because he's had far too much to drink. 'Star is only allowing it because he's curious of the outcome.

"Whoever you want me to be," ‘Star says slyly, throwing out a line he remembers distinctly from a more modern television show before taking a sip of his soda. The man in front of him is not unattractive but nowhere near Julio's caliber. In ‘Star’s opinion, he's not even worthy to stand next to him. 

By the time Julio turns around, and it couldn’t be more than a second or so, the man (he’s a brunette in a purple shirt, almost as tall as ‘Star) has his hand slipped under the hem of ‘Star’s shirt, its outline clearly visible on his waist under the tight fabric. His lips are a breath away from ‘Star’s neck (but a breath too close, in Julio’s opinion).

Julio grabs him by the collar and wrenches him away, sending him stumbling back against the adjoining wall. "And who the fuck are you?" he mirrors, moving to face him in two long strides and crowding him against the wall the same way he had done with 'Star.

"Jealous boyfriend, I presume?" The man has a certain false confidence in his smile that belies the shock in his strangely dark eyes, and a very strong local accent. 

"Guess I am," Julio answers. "Good with your hands, huh?" He lifts one of them; the left, the one that had been under 'Star's shirt seconds ago.

"Oui." The man smirks, and almost relaxes, letting his guard down. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Great," Julio says, and breaks the man's fingers.

'Star smiles when he hears the scream, a twisted sort of thing that would make someone's stomach tie in a knot if they saw it. That is certainly one way to test a hypothesis. His smile is gone as soon as it came, hidden as he takes a measured sip of his drink and looks at the scene playing out. The man who had been flirting with him doesn't look like he'd go down without at least a little bit of a fight, but broken fingers and Julio's stare might just make him back down. 

"You, my friend --" the brunette hisses, surprisingly calm for someone whose fingers were just broken, "are going to regret that." The threat might be a credible one if not for the fact that people are staring and his pride seems to have been hurt worse than his fingers ever could be. 

"Never a bad time to get some practice with the other hand," Julio calls out after him as he turns on his heel and stalks away. He watches the other man until he's through the crowd and out the door, letting it swing shut behind him. Then Julio turns back to 'Star.

"Was he as good as he said?" he asks, surprisingly passive despite the steely glint in his eyes. Instead of pressing 'Star back against the wall he leans against it beside him, picking up his drink again and taking a sip. His lips are wet and dark pink around the neck of the bottle, and he licks them once he's done. 

"He smelled of cheap cologne." It's the first thing that 'Star says and he drinks down the rest of his soda, the ice cubes clinking against his lips. "Are you my boyfriend now, Julio?" He raises an eyebrow. "And no, he's not as good as he perceives himself to be but most people cannot see past that." And it's terribly true. Humans are easily manipulated and pushed in one direction or another without so much as a modicum of control. 'Star is always in control. 

Even if it seems like he is quite the opposite.

"Are you opposed to that?" Julio turns to look at him, quirking an eyebrow. He's never thought about it in those terms or voiced it out loud, but now he thinks about it isn't that what they are? They are living together, after all. They spend most of their time together. They've slept together every night this week, and when 'Star mentions the bed, he always calls it _theirs._

He doesn't know about 'Star, but Julio finds he isn't opposed to the idea at all.

"Not opposed at all." 'Star turns slightly and kisses Julio rather tenderly on the cheek. "Should I thank you for defending my honor then? Who's to know what might have happened if you had not been here." 'Star leans to take the beer bottle from Julio and takes the last drink of it slowly. He's aiming for sexy but the warm beer at the bottom and his inexperience with its taste makes him recoil and throw the bottle onto the ground. "That is foul. How can you drink such a thing?" 

Julio snorts, and then laughs properly, a slightly insidious but nonetheless sincere belly laugh that seems to bubble up over the strange, floaty feeling in his chest. _So we're boyfriends now,_ he thinks as he clutches 'Star's shoulder to steady himself. 

"I've had worse things in my mouth," he says, finally, then bursts out laughing again. "God," he chokes out, chest heaving as he breathes in deeply. "Yeah, you should thank me. You can start by buying me another drink." 

“I can purchase you another beverage, yes. But it will not be something disgusting like your previous drink.” ‘Star knows that he made Julio promise to stop at three, mostly because alcohol dulls the senses, but he’s feeling a bit lighter right now and perhaps that is because he proved his own hypothesis correct. When presented with a threat, Julio struck out like ‘Star’s life was actually being threatened. Now if only he could direct that rage at a worthwhile target. “Sit, Julio.” ‘Star looks up at him before moving so his lips are inches away from the shorter man’s. “And let your grateful boyfriend take care of you.” It’s sly and there is something curling around the edges of ‘Star’s words that are still dangerous. He is not in one of his moods and everything he is giving his partner is solely because he’s playing at something else. Or at least that’s what he wants Julio to think. Maybe that’s what he is trying to convince himself of as well. 

‘Star walks over to the bar and doesn’t even give a glance back at Julio.

Knowing ‘Star -- and Julio would like to think that he does, since they’re _boyfriends_ now and all -- he’s going to end up with something hideously fruity and intensely emasculating. ‘Star has a sweet tooth and no regard whatsoever for social conventions, and both of those things are a complete recipe for disaster in situations like this.

But Julio can’t bring himself to care. Because as of five minutes ago, he and ‘Star are officially dating. He wonders whether his crush analogy from weeks ago (“I’m like a schoolgirl,” he’d said, as well as something about scribbling hearts in notebooks) might have been more accurate than he intended at the time. _Speaking of emasculating._

What 'Star comes back with is exactly what Julio thought he might and honestly, it's a wonder this place even has a blender in the first place. "Here." He sets down the awkwardly shaped glass in front of him. At least the piña colada looks like the bartender knew what they were doing. "I asked for extra cherries as well." And 'Star certainly did. There are three dotting the top where there is typically one. This isn't a joke and 'Star didn't do this to embarrass Julio, he did it because it's the first thing that came to mind and he just doesn't care what anyone else might think. Not that he knows it's strange for two grown men to be drinking piña coladas together, and not that he'd care if you tried to explain it anyway. Human social constructs are idiotic and cumbersome. 

Julio stares blankly at him for a near minute before picking up the glass and turning the straw to face his lips. “Fine,” he deadpans, “but only if you share it with me.” He’s been trying to convince ‘Star to drink with him for just about as long as they’ve been living together, and thus far he’s been entirely unsuccessful. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter so much to him, but post-mission champagne just isn’t as fun when he doesn’t have anyone to share it with.

“Wait,” he says, suddenly struck with an idea and imagining the proverbial lightbulb flickering to life above his head. He takes the straw out of his drink and sips directly from the glass instead, almost cringing at the sudden sweetness of it. Then he swallows, sets the glass down, and cups ‘Star’s chin, drawing him closer to kiss him with the sugary taste still on his lips.

'Star can't really help but moan into it, tongue flicking out to savor the taste in Julio's mouth. The kiss is just as good, if not better than the taste of coconut and 'Star sucks on the other man’s bottom lip when he finally pulls away. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" he asks, though it's impossible with just the taste transferred between them. He's hovering close and wondering about stealing another kiss, but he can wait. Whether he knows it or not 'Star has already been subject to Julio's vices. The night when he inadvertently got high with him is still a little fuzzy in his head even though it's been weeks since. 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Julio tells him, voice warm with affection. He’s thinking of exactly the same incident that ‘Star is, though perhaps a little more fondly. “I dunno if you could, anyway, even if you tried.” Logically, he knows it’s better that ‘Star remains sober, especially since they still have work to do here.

_Right. We didn’t just come here to flirt and break a guy’s fingers._

“This isn’t bad,” Julio says, glancing at the drink, “but that was better.” He runs his thumb across ‘Star’s lower lip, lingering before letting go and focusing on the crowd again.

"What if we've lost our lead." The thought flits into 'Star's head after a few moments. "It could have been the man that attempted to flirt with me." He says _attempted_ because although he played along, it was a pitiful attempt. "He marginally matched our description." 'Star is only really thinking about that now. Usually people dealing MGH seem to attempt to hide in the shadows and he can tell he wasn't using because the drug most likely would have clouded his judgement enough that he would have picked a fight with Julio after getting his fingers broken. No, their target is somewhere here still unless he managed slip out while they were flirting. 

“Marginally,” Julio repeats, after gulping down the entirety of his drink and slamming the glass back on the table. “He was the right height, but our guy is meant to be blond. Plus, if that was him, don’t you think Madrox would’ve mentioned those eyes?” They were pretty creepy. “Keep looking. You’ve probably got better eyesight than me anyway.” Especially after that drink. Come to think of it, it did seem a bit stronger than he’d expected. Maybe it’s actually ‘Star who’s trying to get him drunk, and not the other way around.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

Most likely 'Star isn't even aware of it. "And once we do find him?" He raises an eyebrow at his partner. "You never specifically told me what we are going to do to them." 'Star has a suspicion that it will be some sort of tailing mission which he despises. He'd much rather get the information swiftly and dispose of the loose end rather than letting a target potentially get away or lead them in the wrong direction. Either could happen and if it's not his plan, 'Star isn't going to be responsible for any failings. 

Julio voices exactly what was on 'Star's mind. "Depends how it pans out. Ideally, I want to follow him out of here, see if he leads us to someone bigger. If he's just heading home, though..." Julio catches his gaze out of the corner of his eye, lips twisted in a smirk. "I hope you're up for more of that good cop/bad cop thing we've got going on. Maybe with a little breaking and entering and some gratuitous property damage on the side." It's almost starting to sound like a date.

"I want you to know that I will not allow us to fall into a trap like the last time." Though they couldn't have known, couldn't have ever fathomed how they would fall victim to Pietro Maximoff's plan for them. Thankfully Julio has recovered, but... "Perhaps I should stay back and make sure that we will not be in for any surprises." And because they were supposed to be dressed casually he's not as heavily armed as he would like to be. His swords are in Julio's car and he certainly does not prefer them there. 

“Like, what, you’re gonna send me in and ghost me in case something goes wrong?” Julio folds his arms across his chest. “That’s not like you at all. Unless you’re just doing it so you can watch me walk away?” Even he isn’t smug enough to genuinely believe that, but the look on ‘Star’s face is too funny to pass up. It doesn’t sound like a bad plan, though. Together they’re intimidating, but Julio alone is… well, still intimidating (there’s men whose statures belie their true strength, and then there’s Julio, who’s a head shorter than most guys and still manages to look scary as hell), but perhaps not as immediately threatening. “Wait.” He holds his hand out as though to stop ‘Star from saying anything. “Over there at the bar, just under that ugly yellow lamp -- is that our guy?”

It is certainly an ugly yellow lamp and and the man beneath it is more haggard-looking than even Pietro when they saw him last. Which is saying something. 

“He is suffering from a withdrawal of some sort.” ‘Star isn't close enough to see, but he can certainly identify the outward signs from across the bar. He’s hunched over, beer huddled close to him and if he bites his nails any shorter he might just be ingesting his own fingers. “So if he is not selling mutant growth hormone, he is certainly using it.” Most of the time the users are the sellers which makes not only for a sloppy business model but also desperately easy targets. 

While hunting these people is easy, it is certainly no challenge and ‘Star is starting to wonder if perhaps the only one worthy of crossing blades with him is Julio. He thinks back for a moment and realizes that Julio still owes him that fight even if it sometimes seems as if they have moved past being at each other’s throats. 

“He looks pretty twitchy,” Julio observes, mostly to himself. It’s common knowledge that MGH has a whole plethora of nasty side effects, and irritability is only one of them. It almost cost them dearly on their last mission, but this time Julio thinks they might be able to use it to their advantage.

“Hold on,” he murmurs, lowering his hand. He nudges ‘Star’s arm aside and touches his hip, giving it a brief, affectionate squeeze before pulling away. Then he runs his fingers through his hair, artfully messing a few strands out of the neat bun it was in previously, picks up the almost-empty pina colada glass and saunters off towards the bar with a lack of coordination that’s definitely put on, but remarkably convincing. He gets their target’s attention by slipping an arm around his shoulders, and before the man has time to say anything about it Julio is practically in his lap.

“Come here often?” he asks cheerfully. Make that _literally_ in his lap. 

'Star tenses but he grits his teeth and stays where he is. This is part of Julio's plan, but he wonders if a little bit of this act is because of what happened to him and the man that attempted to come onto him. His actions were simply to prove a theory correct, but for all that it's an act 'Star thinks he knows the other man well enough to know a deliberate dig when he sees one. What is that saying? Murdering two fowl with one rock? If Julio can get the job done and also make him jealous he will do it. 

"Not normally,” the man growls out, looking Julio up and down before making a move to push him out of his lap. "Sorry. I'm not your type." That could mean a lot of things here and there’s something telling about the way that even if he appears to recoil, his hands linger right against Julio's thighs. He really does want him.

“No,” Julio purrs, “you’re really not.” Instead of letting himself be pushed away, he shifts closer until his thighs are pressed against the man’s hips and he can feel him half-hard against his ass. Julio isn’t sure if it’s flattering or just gross. _Oh, the things I do for love. And money. And not getting eviscerated in my own home by insidious drug dealers._ “But I’m kinda drunk,” he continues, backing up his statement with a quiet giggle, “and you’re kinda lonely, and that’s good enough for me.” He winks, and shakes his head to flip his hair out of his eyes with unexpected grace. It’s taking everything he has not to laugh. He’s not a bad actor, most of the time, but now he’s just being ridiculous, and the best thing is that this guy doesn’t even seem to have noticed. 

Julio bites back a grin and locks eyes with the target and rolls his hips, bouncing briefly in the other man’s lap. He’s gone past suggestive and into the territory of public indecency, and once he’s out of here, he doesn’t know whether he’ll ever be able to stop laughing. He hopes ‘Star finds it funny. He’s probably over there busting his gut laughing, or, _I dunno,_ smiling a bit, which is the closest equivalent in ‘Star’s terms.  
When he devised this plan -- if you could even call it that -- Julio had seen himself provoking the target into violence. Maybe a shove or a punch in the face or a narrowly-evaded swipe with a broken bottle. Typical offended macho behavior. What he hadn’t expected was to be tapped on the shoulder by a security guard, glared at, and summarily dragged off to the exit along with the target.

As far as he’s concerned, though? The plan was a success. 

The man might have taken a swing at him if Julio weren't so achingly right about how much he actually wanted him. There is a string of curses as the man walks down the sidewalk and fumbles for his keys. His car certainly matches him in appearance. He clicks the automatic lock for a beige Buick LeSabre, something that speaks volumes about how many drugs he's sold and how much money he's lost buying them. There is even a pair of fuzzy dice hanging on the mirror. 'Star comes out the door just in time to see him get inside. 

"Go," 'Star urges him quickly, passing Julio on the sidewalk. "Get Luz and I will keep him here until you are ready." The rest is whispered and 'Star keeps his pace toward the man who is still settling into his car. "Excuse me, sir? I believe you forgot your hat inside,” he says as he stands outside the driver’s side window, attempting to keep his tone as cordial as possible as he presents the black knit cap to him. "I thought it my duty to return it to you, lest you might have never seen it again." 

By the time Julio drives Luz around the corner, the man in the LeSabre is already driving away. Julio leans over and opens the door on the passenger side, frantically motioning for ‘Star to get in. “Seatbelt,” he says, once he does, and as usual, he floors the accelerator before ‘Star has a chance to even reach for it. Their target is speeding but Julio has no trouble matching him, trailing a safe distance behind. “Turn on the stereo,” he instructs, hands practically glued to the steering wheel. 

'Star side eyes him for a moment before switching it on. The volume is loud and he cringes as the middle of _Dancing Queen_ blares at them. At least it's catchy. "Why are we listening to the radio so loudly?" 'Star has to raise his voice to go over it, but he suspects that it's because if there was any thought that they were trying to trail the car in front of them it was just shattered by the fact that they are failing at being stealthy. He narrows his eyes just a bit and can see the car up ahead speeding through an intersection.

“It’s a double bluff,” Julio shouts back, before grimacing and letting go of the wheel with one hand to switch from the radio to his own meticulously curated driving playlist. ABBA fades into something newer, hip-hop music with a bass line that makes the car hum in time with it. Julio relaxes, and turns back to watch the road. “If we’re following him with the headlights off and the windows up, he’s gonna think we’re suspicious. But if we’re conspicuous on purpose…”

"Ugh. If you are certain." The music playing now is not to ‘Star’s taste, but he ignores it as best he can while he keeps focus on the car in front of him. Any pent up aggression he has about Julio's taste in music or the fact that he was grinding on that disgusting man at the bar can be taken out on their target. If for some reason they lose said target, he will simply take it out on Julio later. That ugly car is still speeding along, swerving around cars that are stopped at a red light before turning a corner rather sharply. They must be getting close now. 

“You’re pissed off about something,” Julio observes, turning the same corner with decidedly more grace. It’s been raining -- again -- but Luz handles excellently, or rather, Julio handles Luz excellently. Or something. 

They make it past the row of cars at the red light and then they’re clear for several blocks, coasting along a slight decline as they head towards the edges of the city. Julio glances to look at ‘Star in the half-darkness. “If it helps,” he says, just loud enough to be heard over the music, “I was wishing he was you.”

"I suppose I did deserve it." 'Star replies. "I could have stabbed that other man for touching me, but I did not. I wanted to see how you would react." He hadn't planned on admitting that, but it's not as if Julio probably hadn't already figured it out. "I was hoping you would have done more than break his fingers." A slight twitch of a smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. "You did disappoint me in that regard." Maybe disappoint isn't the right word, it seems a little harsh. 

“Out of curiosity,” Julio says, as the song ends and he flicks through the playlist in search of something of a similar tone, “which part of that were you into? The violence, or the fact that I was jealous?” Jealous may not be the right term. It’s not as though he was actually worried about ‘Star ignoring him for someone else -- he knows better than that -- but more that it made him angry to see someone else with their hands all over him like that. Because ‘Star is his. His boyfriend, his partner, and occasionally (when the mood strikes them both) his property, and when he thinks about it there’s really no limit to the fingers (or arms, or necks) he’d break to keep it that way.

"Can it be both?" 'Star offers. "Because I do think that it is both." Though there was a particularly bloody fantasy of his, one that flashed in his mind when Julio was stalking over to them. He imagined him not breaking fingers but cutting them off, slitting his throat and letting him bleed all over the table in front of them. A warning and an example. It's what he would have done if the tables had been turned. 

For all that he likes to be cold and impassive at most times, something is changing with that. Slowing curling around the edges of him and burning away his apathy he once had. 'Star isn't sure what the word for it is, but he does know that he cares for Julio. If he didn't, he would have left him back at their last job with his brain damaged. He might have even thrown him off the building to put him out of his misery. 

“It can be,” Julio confirms, with an odd little smile. “For the record, though…” He keeps one hand on the wheel and settles the other on ‘Star’s thigh, a warm, gentle pressure that recalls the way he’d touched his waist in the bar. “You don’t have to try and make me jealous just to find out how much I care.” It’s probably going to be lost on him, again, but… “ _Te amo_ , ‘Star. All you have to do is ask.”

Ahead of them, the Buick slows, flashes its indicator, and pulls into a several-storey parking lot.

"I will remember that next time." 'Star wonders when exactly is a good time to let Julio know that he understands what he's been whispering to him in Spanish and has for a while now. "Should we follow it in or park a block away?" That seems obvious, but 'Stars plan and Julio's might differ a bit. 

“Second option,” Julio says, already speeding past the entrance to the parking lot in search of a suitably secluded alley to park Luz in. In his experience, she’s always been much safer in places like that than on main streets or in lots. Maybe it’s because nobody else is brave enough or stupid enough to head down one of those alleys at this time of the morning.

He finds a dead-end street half a block away, narrow and narrower still thanks to the row of dumpsters lining the side. He parks Luz as far away from them as he can, at the very end of the street, and slips out in a hurry, tugging anxiously at his scarf while ‘Star collects his swords from under the seat. 

By the time the other man is out, Julio has taken the scarf from around his neck and tied it tight around his waist instead, a bold orange spotted stripe across the black that makes up the rest of his outfit. Maybe a jaguar-patterned scarf is overkill, but overkill is his middle name. Or it would be, if his middle name wasn’t actually Esteban. 

“Hurry up,” he hisses, pressing the remote button to lock the doors and stowing his keys in the pocket of his jeans. He misses his uniform jacket dearly. “I want to catch him before he leaves the parking lot.”

"That will not be a problem." 'Star secures his swords before getting a running start and jumping on top of one of the dumpsters and then pulling himself up onto one of the fire escapes. "You head around inside and I will trail you from the top and take the roof down." And he'll make sure there are no threats following them in. He won't make the same mistake twice. "Any sign of trouble on your end, bring the building down." 'Star is deadly serious and he doesn't give Julio any time to tell him no or refigure the plan because he's already climbing and vaulting over onto another rooftop.

“Bring the --” Julio begins incredulously, but ‘Star is fast, and he’s out of earshot by the time he finishes the sentence. “That was a figure of speech, right?” he mumbles to himself, smoothing back his hair and breaking into a run towards the entrance to the parking lot. He is fully aware that ‘Star doesn’t use figures of speech, at least not without adorably confusing them beforehand. 

“Must’ve just meant if I’m the only one there.” That makes more sense. ‘Star must have just assumed he’d be thinking logically about it and infer that eventually. Julio vaults over the gate to the lot and starts running faster, passing rows and rows of empty spaces on the way up to the ramp. 

It’s so empty that he can hear the echo of their target’s car’s engine, and its absence when he parks and switches it off. He moves faster still, ignoring the ramp in favour of jumping for the railing above it and hauling himself up, bracing both feet on the top railing and then jumping again for its adjacent match on the level above. He catches the lowest rung and climbs from there, hearing footsteps one level up when he quiets his own breathing. He finds himself next to the stairwell, and takes the stairs one final flight, slipping out through the door at the top just in time to wind up face-to-face with their target.

"Did you follow me!?" The man snarls, obviously startled. "I thought I made it clear that I don't want anything to do with you." He's even shakier now and one look at his eyes and anyone could tell that he's about a week off from his last MGH dose. "Can't you find some other poor bastard to screw?" For all his threats at the bar he's trying to be diplomatic which means he's either all bark and no bite or he's in a hurry to get somewhere. Julio can tell pretty easily that it's a bit of both. 

There is a barely audible scrape of boots from behind the man as 'Star drops down from the above stairwell to land gracefully just on the other side of the parking garage. This man has brought no one else and without any other threats to neutralize he thought it time to rejoin his partner. He knows Julio's spotted him, but their target is going to have no idea. 

"Look," the man starts up again. "I know people probably give you money to suck them off or whatever but here --" He pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket. "I'll give you a hundred to just get out of my way and leave." 

Julio grabs him by his hair and slams his face against the hood of that ugly car so hard it makes an imprint. “Do not,” he hisses, “speak to me like that in front of my boyfriend.” He relinquishes his grip and the man sinks to the ground, clutching his nose. Julio wipes his hands on his shirt, though there’s nothing really on them, and looks across at ‘Star. 

“Hey, babe,” he greets him, with a wave. “I was just about to ask this pathetic, unwashed junkie how long it had been since he last visited his supplier. I’m guessing it must’ve been a while, since he seems pretty out of it.” Julio crouches down, catching the man’s eyes as he peeks through his fingers. He’s still clutching his nose, though it’s doing nothing to stop the steady flow of blood that pours from it. _Definitely broken._ Julio looks closer. He might have been good-looking, once, were it not for the MGH withdrawals and his general aura of greasiness. “‘Cause I don’t think anyone in their right mind would genuinely believe someone like me would want to fuck someone like him.” Especially not to the point of chasing him halfway across the city to do it. _Dios. This is some serious stuff._

There is a weak groan from the man and he turns his head slowly to the side as he hears 'Star's boots on the concrete and the hiss of a sword being pulled from its sheath. 

"I see. I heard your little exchange.” ‘Star gives their target a sidelong glance as he walks past him and uses his free hand to tip Julio's chin up. "He didn't bruise your ego too badly did he, dear?" Usually 'Star wouldn't play along with something like pet names during an interrogation, but it seems it's the mood of the night.

"Both of you are insane," the man mumbles out through the his hand. It's a wonder he can speak at all with all the blood that is surely pouring down the back end of his sinuses from his broken nose. 'Star answers him with a boot right to the chest that pushes him over onto his back. 

"I was not speaking to you." He sneers as he spares the man a glances for just a moment before turning back to Julio. 

“My ego is fine,” Julio assures him, as though it wasn’t obvious, “but thanks for asking. Now,” he says, leveling a stare at their target, “this is how it’s gonna work. We’re here to find Pietro Maximoff. We know you’re one of his guys, we know what kind of shit you’re dealing, and we know you’re gonna help us because the alternative involves you finding out just how good ‘Star here is with his knives, and I don’t think you want that. So,” he leans in closer, still crouching with one hand out in front of him to keep his balance, “how about you stop fucking _crying_ for a minute and _tell us where Pietro is._ ”

"I don't know!" The man stammers, trying to find some balance and get to his feet or at least sit up. "I thought you might have been working for him. Came to like -- eliminate me or something." He'd been dipping into the reserves, supposed to be dealing but using instead. "I've been stealing MGH. If you wanna stop him I can help you." If you can't escape you might as well try and bargain. It's just a shame that both 'Star and Julio aren't really going to need his help. He just doesn't know that yet.

"So Pietro Maximoff wants you dead?" 'Star asks rhetorically, circling around the man. "So you are not only a drug addict, but you have no loyalties and even less honor than I thought you possessed." Which seemed very little. "You are not giving me much of a reason not to simply cut your traitorous tongue out." 'Star slides the blunt end of his sword across the man's back. 

“I’d go for his balls instead,” Julio suggests, and their target finally cracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading so far! We have a little less than twenty chapters to go, so stay tuned. If you want to follow us on tumblr, we're geneticghost and officialrobliefeld there.


	7. The Time Was Neither Wrong Nor Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real.

“He’s not here!” the man blurts out in a voice as shaky as his hands. “He had an office in the centre of town, but he hasn’t been there for days. He was never -- never based in this building.”

“Then who is?” Julio prompts him as soon as he finishes speaking. He’s not going to wait around for this man to start crying again. He doesn’t have the time, and he certainly doesn’t have the patience.

“Nobody,” the man says, with a choked sob that turns into a cough. That nosebleed is bad. It hasn’t stopped leaking like a tap since he got it, and if he’s choking on the blood, Julio suspects he might have broken more than just the nose. “This isn’t an office, this --” he whimpers as ‘Star’s sword traces the line of his backbone, moving swiftly downward in an obvious threat. “-- this is a lab. There are -- people in there. Mutants.”

Julio’s gut twists. “How many?”

“Twelve,” the man stammers. “Thirteen, maybe. Tenth floor, take the elevator. There’s guards, but only two of them, and -- _don’t move that sword any lower, please, I don’t know anything else, I --”_

“You know,” ‘Star drawls out, making another smooth motion with the sword. “Perhaps if we had been anyone else we might have let you go, but --” He flicks his eyes toward Julio. “My partner and I are mutants and your usefulness has ended.” He digs his sword into his side, twisting just slightly. “This will not be over quickly for you.” There is a sharp inhale of breath by the man before ‘Star continues. “You will bleed out here, cold and alone. I could sever your spine but I’d rather puncture your kidneys one at a time.” The man is lucky that he and Julio now have mutants to rescue and that although sticking around to torture him would be wonderful, he’s dropped very low on their priority list. Thirteen mutants being held as test subjects or worse… it’s enough to actually make him sick. 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Julio grins, then nods. “Do it,” he says, voice suddenly cold and commanding. He might have been joking before, but he’s angry. Say what you will about a lack of solidarity in the mutant community (if you could call it a community at all, and Julio wouldn’t, not even before the rift was driven between the Summers men), but he’s always felt like this when faced with crimes against his species. He’s not a sympathetic man at the best of times, but something about it just gets to him. He knows the basics of how MGH is made, how it’s extracted, what the process does to the mutants it uses, and he can’t think of many things that seem worse to him than that. “It’s just a shame he won’t suffer as much as they have.”

"If he's unlucky enough to be still alive when we get back he just might." 'Star removes his sword with an unpleasant _shunk_ and then drives it into the other side in much the same way. The man is a gurgling mess by now and the blood loss has put him in shock. Good riddance. 

"How would you like to approach this, Julio?" ‘Star turns his attention back to him before kicking the man out of his way. There are a few ways that 'Star can see, but a lot of them rely on the fact that these captive mutants might actually be able to walk on their own which is probably not the case at all.

Julio looks grim. "Honestly, dude? I don't know. I don't --" He breaks off, pulling a face and glancing away, just for a second, hiding the way his resolve cracks. When he looks back he's almost stoic, forced calm and quiet. "I don't know how many of them we'll be carrying out of there," he says. "If we're lucky, we've caught this early, or some of them will have healing factors, but..." he bites his lip. "We don't know. Not until we're in there. Ideally -- we might be able to clear a path to the elevator. Guy said there'd be security, but I don't trust him on those numbers. I'm thinkin' -- if we have to make a run for it you should grab whoever you can, and I'll make sure nobody touches you." He feels marginally more confident, either for his plan or for the way 'Star looks at him when he says it. Either way --

"We've got this," he says. "We'll handle it somehow." 

"We will." 'Star's expression is cold, but there is emotion bubbling to the surface. A month or so ago he'd have had no problem getting into a building like this and getting out without feeling a thing for the mutants that might be trapped inside, but it's different now. When he thinks about what they might see inside it makes him sick to his stomach and fuels a rage inside of him that he can only recall feeling when he's fighting tooth and nail for his life. 

"Come, Julio. We enter from the front and slaughter anyone in our path." He pulls his other sword from its sheath before he walks brusquely towards the door. This isn't the time for stealth or half measures. Whoever is inside guarding the building will be made an example of. 

They approach in silence and the bottom floor of the building is empty save for a desk that appears to have once seated a security guard but looks now as if they abandoned their post. It's only after they have made their way into the elevator and up to the tenth floor that 'Star breaks the silence and subsequent tension between he and Julio. 

"I suspect what we will find will be many dead mutants." His tone isn't cold or detached and it aches with a sadness he wouldn't even begin to describe. 

“Don’t say it, dude.” Julio shakes his head. “That’s bad luck.” He knows ‘Star would probably laugh at that under any other circumstance but he feels uneasy about the statement anyway, like somehow they’re dooming those mutants to a terrible fate by even thinking of it. The way ‘Star is talking breaks his heart a little, and the expression on his face is worse. He wishes the other man hadn’t chosen now, of all times, to start showing emotions. 

“Listen, um -- this is going to be fine. I mean --” Julio runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back again just before the elevator chimes their approach. “We’re gonna come back from this. Emotionally. We’re going to go home after it all and cuddle or fuck or watch a movie or eat ice-cream and we’ll,” he inhales deeply, and exhales just the same, “be fine.” The doors slide open, and Julio squeezes ‘Star’s shoulder. “Now let’s go break some stuff.”

Surprisingly, Julio's words take a bit of weight off ‘Star’s chest. He nods before he exits the elevator and looks left and then right down the corridor. There is glass paneling along one of the walls and 'Star surmises that the lab must be within the middle of the room. 

"There is someone at the end of the hall,” he says, spotting a flicker of light to the left. "I will dispatch them." He narrows his eyes and starts down the hallways without another glance at Julio.

Julio makes a beeline for the lab, footsteps nearly silent on the carpeted floor. He finds the door slightly ajar with a single guard standing between him and it. Julio sneaks up on him from behind, slipping one arm around his neck to hold him still and grabbing his jaw tightly with his other hand and twisting hard. He doesn’t check to see whether the guard is dead before he drops him; the point is that he drops, and he’s quiet, and Julio has other places to be. He steps over the guard and pushes open the door to the lab, steeling his nerves to face whatever he might find inside.

‘Star has beat him into the lab, face splattered with blood from when he removed the other guards head from his body. His shoulders are slack and he’s just staring at the room around him.

There are rows of hospital beds, most of which are empty but others are occupied with body bags that are zipped up tight and already tagged. It’s grim and speaks of how little regard anyone had for these mutants before they died what was most likely a slow and gruesome death. 

‘Star scans the far wall of beds before picking up on the slow beep of a heart monitor still functioning in the corner of the room. There is someone still here, someone still alive amongst all of this death. ‘Star might live his life entrenched in violence, but seeing so many innocent dead makes bile rise in his throat. He shakes the feeling after a moment and rushes toward that sound, sheathing his sword when he comes upon the woman strapped down in the bed. Her eyes are covered with a haphazard blindfold and her blond hair is spread out against the scratchy looking hospital pillow. She’s alive… but for how much longer?

Julio appears at his side seemingly out of nowhere, having crossed the room in something he doesn’t even consciously note as respectful silence. “Get the blindfold off first,” he says, quiet and urgent. “She’ll probably wake up once we take out the IV. Waking up in the dark is only gonna make it worse.” He leaves that to ‘Star and busies himself with the IV instead, pressing his fingertips to the vein it connects to in preparation for pulling it out. He hates to have to do it, but he knows it’s wiser to leave the restraints around the mutant’s arms and legs until she’s woken up. Who knows what her powers might be? 

‘Star takes the blindfold off gently and tosses it to the side, suddenly very conscious of the blood staining his face. If this woman wakes up and sees him like this she will most likely panic. He takes a moment to wipe his face off with his sleeve the best he can before brushing the woman's hair out of her face. 'Star feels like he owes it to her to be gentle and he's not sure if that is because of the circumstances or because of something else entirely. Whatever the feeling is, it's strange and he's not sure he likes it.

Julio presses down on the woman’s arm, and carefully removes the IV.

She wakes up immediately, jolting upright with her wrists still anchored to the table by the restraints. She draws a deep, shaky breath and screams; or she would, if her throat weren’t so dry, and her lungs so weak. It comes out voiceless, a barely-audible rattle of a noise that seems to distress her more than anything else about the situation.

Julio holds her by the shoulders, more for comfort than in any effort to keep her still. She glances around in a panic, only stopping when he begins to speak. “Hey. _Hey_. Stop moving so much, you’re going to get hurt.” 

She looks at him, somehow still fiercely defiant despite her condition. 

“It’s okay,” he continues, slipping unintentionally into a soothing tone that he’s only ever really used around ‘Star before. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe. We’re getting you out of here.” He doesn’t comment on the bodies surrounding them, or ask the woman for her name (she’s lost her voice and she seems cut up about it; asking would just be an insult). All he does is glance at ‘Star and gesture for him to undo the restraints. He keeps his hands right where they are, a solid but gentle presence on the woman’s shoulders. 

She begins to try and speak again and it's 'Star that attempts to soothe her this time. "Shh -- we will take you some place safe and get you something to drink. Your voice is most likely gone from misuse. It will return." It seems the best thing to say at the time and without thinking further about it, he picks up her up and cradles her in his arms once she's out of the restraints. 

"Julio," 'Star finally addresses him. "There is a computer in the corner. Attempt to see what you can retrieve from it. I am taking her down to the car." This might have turned into a rescue mission but they still need as much information as possible. "When you are done, destroy everything." There is a weird urgency stirring inside of him to get this woman out of here as soon as possible and rather than ignore it he is going to let it guide him. 

"Go," Julio tells him, already halfway to the desk. "Get her safe. I've got this." He crouches at the tower, intent on stripping the cover and pulling out the hard drive. The less of this they leave behind, the better. He sees 'Star leave out of the corner of his eye, slipping through the door with the mutant woman held carefully against his chest. It makes his heart ache all over again, horror and sadness and pride. They're heroes for once, in a story they can never speak about; or maybe they're just men in the right place at the right time. Even they might shine a little bright against something so hopeless. 

‘Star gets the woman back to Luz quickly, sliding her into the back seat and then giving her another look over before ducking out of the alley and heading to the convenience store across the street. There is thunder in the distance as he crosses the street. They should head back soon before it starts to pour again. 

At the store he grabs several bottles of water and some granola bars, leaving a roll of dollar bills on the counter for the very distressed looking cashier without another word. When he returns to Luz, he takes off his swords and stows them away in the trunk before slipping his blood stained jacket off and laying it over the woman in the back seat. 

“Here,” ‘Star offers her a bottle of water after uncapping it and taking a seat next to her. “I will hold it for you so you do not spill it.” Somewhere distantly in the back of his head he is thinking about how Julio might be angry about this food in his car, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

She nods sheepishly at him, sitting up a little more and taking a drink of water before ending up drinking half of the bottle in what seems like one gulp. “What--” she tries to speak after drinking. “Is your name?” 

‘Star normally wouldn’t tell a stranger, especially one he doesn’t know he can trust, but… 

“Darkstar."

Whatever the woman says in reply is drowned out by a rumble in the distance, low at first and then escalating into a cacophony of falling bricks and shattering glass. Julio steps into the alley a minute later, brushing dust off his shirt and untying his scarf from his waist to replace it around his neck. He doesn’t look satisfied with his work. He doesn’t particularly look like anything. Just quiet and expressionless and a little hollow-eyed, if you were to look closer. He slides into the front seat without even a word about ‘Star’s presence in the back seat, or the water or the granola bars. He nods briefly at the mutant woman, and she nods briefly back.

Julio starts the car. “I checked the other floors,” he says, and that’s all.

'Star doesn't say anything else either, merely sharing a glance with Julio before turning his attention back to the woman and giving her a bit more water. "We will take you to the doctor and then you can resume your life as it was before all of this happened." He has no idea what that would be or if she isn't just as terrible as everyone else they have encountered, but he's got the feeling that that isn’t the case. 

"Why did you save me?" It's the first question out of her mouth after she finishes drinking. "Who sent you?" She's searching for answers that she is either not going to get or not going to like. It may be best just to keep silent about everything.

“We’re mutants,” Julio says, and that could serve as an answer to most of her questions but he doesn’t leave it at that. “He’s one of Scott Summers’ people. I’m -- I work for Madrox, sometimes.” He glances up at the mirror, watching for a sign of recognition on the mutant’s face. “This wasn’t for them, though. This was…” he tries to think of how to explain it. Going into too much detail would reveal them as who they truly are -- assassins, mercenaries, murderers -- and Julio isn’t ready to do that. They’re heroes, at least in her eyes, and he finds himself more desperate to cling to that than he ever thought he would be. 

“This was kinda personal,” he says, finally, and leaves it at that.

"Oh." It's all she can think to say back, not because she doesn’t have more questions but because of the finality in Julio’s tone. She’s not sure he would give her more even if she asked. “Your name is Julio, right?” she says after taking another sip of water and glancing at ‘Star before looking away. He’s staring at her, watching her like a hawk and as with almost everyone other than Julio it’s creeping her out a bit even if he’s been nothing but kind to her. It’s something about that white, glazed-over eye. It’s familiar, but at the same time it isn't. 

Maybe her mind is just playing tricks on her. That’s probably it. “I can’t even thank you properly--I don’t know how I’d repay either of you.” It’s an impossibility, because if she’d been left there she would have died like the rest of them. “My name is Alison.”

“You got my name right,” Julio confirms, “and under any other circumstances I’d say it was a pleasure meeting you, but…” he falls silent. That hadn’t been intended as humor, but it falls too close for comfort. “Sorry,” he amends. “And don’t worry about thanking us. This -- this was the least we could do.”

He’s silent again for several minutes, and all there is between them is the shimmer of the headlights on the rain-dampened road and the quiet roar of Luz’s engine. Julio is speeding again, almost without realizing it; some part of his brain knows that it’s wise to hurry, but even if it didn’t he’d probably still be doing it on impulse. The building is gone, but Julio still wants as much distance between it and himself as possible.

“There were two other labs,” he says, finally, and it doesn’t matter that he’s facing the road and that ‘Star can’t see him because the grief in his voice says enough. “No techs, no active equipment, just body bags.” He stopped to check. He shouldn’t have. “I’m not gonna say you’re lucky, Alison, ‘cause you’re not, but…” But he’s glad they found her. He doesn’t know how he’d be feeling right now if they hadn’t.

“We are going to get you cared for,” ‘Star finally says about a minute into another lapse into silence between them. “And we have ensured that no one will come after you again.” That is a bit of a bluff considering they have not shut down the entire operation yet, but if it’s going to make Alison feel more secure than he has no problem saying something like that. This is so entirely unlike him and Julio has probably noticed, but now is not the time for witty banter or impassive thoughts about snapping people’s necks. He’s learned how to be at least somewhat tender over this last month and he’s only got Julio to blame for that. That said, he’s finding it to be a skill worth learning, at least for the moment.

If ‘Star had to guess he’d say that his instinct to protect this woman is purely because she’s a mutant, but somewhere else he knows that’s not just it. He just doesn’t know what _it_ is. They have some sort of unplaceable commonality between them and it makes his gut twist in the strangest of ways. 

Whatever it is, Julio has noticed it too. He considers himself somewhat of an expert in the field of decoding ‘Star’s enigmatic facial expressions, even more so now that he’s suddenly started opening up. This particular emotion is new, and it manifests as a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows and a slackening of his lips and Julio hasn’t the slightest idea what it all means. He’ll ask him later, when Alison is safe with Doug and they’re alone again. They’re only a couple of blocks away.

If Alison meant to protest when ‘Star picks her up again she doesn’t. She lets him take her out of the car, balancing the plastic bag full of water and granola as he holds her. As a courtesy he probably should have asked her if she could walk, but he’d rather not even take the chance. She clings to him as they walk, not even bothering to ask exactly where they are headed. She is drowsy now, lack of sleep and everything else she’s been through finally catching up with her. She rests her head gently on ‘Star’s shoulder and closes her eyes. She feels safe for the first time in weeks and it doesn’t even occur to her that maybe she shouldn’t. 

Julio presses the intercom button at the door, entirely unsurprised when the call is answered immediately. “Doug? It’s --”

“Julio,” Doug’s voice is crackly over the intercom, but definitely not tired. “I know. Nobody else ever shows up here so late. What did he do this time?”

“He saved somebody’s life,” Julio answers, a strange sort of smile working its way across his lips. “Come down here, dude, we need your help. She’s a mutant. We rescued her from an MGH lab. She’s conscious, but that’s about it. So --”

“I’ll be down in a second,” Doug tells him, and hangs up.

When he meets them at the door, he turns pale. “Here,” he says urgently, holding his arms out. “I can lift her,” he snaps when ‘Star hesitates, and it turns out he can. “I’ll get her upstairs. You shouldn’t have moved her. You shouldn’t have even touched her; her immune system is probably too weak.” He pauses, exhaling slowly, calming down just a little. “But you did save her life. Now -- get out of here. She’s not out of the woods yet.”

“Appreciate it,” Julio mumbles, and Doug nods in acknowledgement, and closes the door.

Julio turns to ‘Star, expressionless and imperceptible. “So,” he says, once it’s quiet, and the outside sensor light has flicked off again. “Who was she to you?”

“I am not entirely sure,” ‘Star says, trying to collect himself enough to give an answer. “It seems strange, but I feel as though she might be family.” A very strange thought and not one that he is entirely comfortable with. He simply has this odd notion in the back of his mind that tells him that. He pulls his jacket that Alison had been wrapped up in closer to him and takes a seat on the bottom step. “Someone close to me in any case.” Which is strange, because for everything he knows he doesn’t have parents. Unless…

“She might be my mother.” Something screams at him that that is the truth. 

Julio stares. “Oh,” he says simply, before the weight of it all sinks in, and then he’s pulling ‘Star close to his chest and hugging him tight, and ‘Star is _letting him_ , which is maybe the strangest thing of all. ‘Star still towers over him but somehow all of this makes him seem smaller, like Julio could gather him up and hold him to his chest with his ear to the sound of his heartbeat for comfort. He only spares a moment wondering how, but stranger things have happened with ‘Star and he’s far too solemn to be joking. “Oh god, ‘Star,” he murmurs, throat tight around his words, “that’s -- that’s…” He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to say. “Dude, I’m so sorry.”

“I do not like this feeling, Julio,” ‘Star says plainly, sadly. He feels a bit lost, not in control and it’s terrifying. He cannot shake the feeling that he’s exactly right about his guess but he has no way to prove it’s true. He cannot ask her in the state she is in currently, and even if he did she showed no sign of recognizing him as anyone other than a stranger that just happened to save her life. Why is he making this connection now? Why him? ‘Star presses his face into Julio’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“I know, babe,” Julio soothes him, rubbing circles across his back as he holds him close. “I know.” He feels just about as miserable as ‘Star looks; hollow and tired and grieving for faces he saw through unzipped body bags and entirely out of his depth on top of it all. He isn’t a hero and he doesn’t know how heroes manage it all. Not if it feels like this. 

He relaxes his grip, letting ‘Star slip out of his arms, but he lingers with Julio’s hands at the small of his back, a light touch that anchors him nonetheless. “Let’s go home,” Julio says. He’s not sure what good that will do but just being somewhere, anywhere except for here must be an improvement. 

"Okay." 'Star lets himself be pulled along as Julio stands, grabbing his hand and just wanting some sort of anchor for the feelings he's experiencing right now. When they first met, 'Star remembers Julio telling him that he'd be somewhat of an emotional guide for him. He hopes he still intends that, because he needs it more now than ever. He can navigate most emotions, understand what's right and what's wrong and how read others to a certain degree. But all of this feels wrong, anxiousness swirling in his gut and the only thing he has to put it up against is how he felt when he was worried Julio might fall asleep and never wake up when he was concussed.

Julio opens the door on the passenger side for him, which he hasn’t done for a while. He used to do it because he didn’t trust ‘Star not to scratch something, but now it’s different. ‘Star gets in, and puts on his seatbelt without having to be asked, and looks genuinely (but likely unintentionally) distressed at the fact that he has to let go of Julio’s hand to do it. Julio, for once, drives at the speed limit on the way home, and he does so with one hand on the wheel and the other reaching across to the passenger seat, resting in ‘Star’s lap with their fingers intertwined.

\--

When they finally get home and 'Star shrugs off his jacket and sets his swords gently against the balcony door all he can do is turn around and look back at Julio. This is nothing they were prepared for. He's good with strategy and logical decisions, he's ill equipped for sentiment and sadness and love. But here he is, raw and open and he can't sew himself shut. He can't stop the bleeding. 'Star feels like he's spilled himself all over the floor and Julio is going to have to clean up the mess. 

Julio seems to have read his mind. “There’s no right or wrong way to do this, you know,” he tells him quietly. He wasn’t dressed for the cold like ‘Star was but his scarf is still looped around his neck, and his boots are on, and he tracked rain water into the apartment but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I know that’s what everyone says about it, but I think it’s true.” He doesn’t even say the word -- _grief_ \-- but it hangs in the air between them, heavy as thunder. “Just -- whatever you feel you need to do, do it. We’ll figure it out from there.”

'Star glances up again and before he really knows what he's doing he's crossing the room and pulling Julio close and pressing his lips urgently but softly to the other man’s. This is what he needs to do. He needs to wrap his lover up and never let him him go. He needs to grab onto what's tangible in the room, what's real and what he can let himself drown in. 'Star backs Julio up to the wall and presses his hands to the small of his back, licking into this mouth after he's kissed his lips pink. This isn't just about blocking out what he can't seem to understand, it's about making sure he reminds himself that something, someone he really truly cares about is right here and he's not leaving. That Julio won't leave him alone or forget about him. That he won't be abandoned. 

When they stop kissing to breathe, they don’t part more than they need to, staying close enough together that their noses almost touch. Julio tries not to show his surprise. Somehow he knows that making a big deal out of this will only make ‘Star feel worse, that it might disrupt this fragile, phenomenal thing that’s happening between them. 

“Okay,” he says, and that’s all. ‘Star kisses him again and he melts into it, slipping his fingers through ‘Star’s hair and wrapping his other arm around his torso to hold him close. Maybe he needs this just as much as ‘Star does.

'Star lifts Julio as they kiss, grabbing his ass and picking him up as though he weighs nothing. He doesn't want to break the kiss and he hardly does as he walks backwards down the hall, stealing short little kisses as he maneuvers them into their room and leans against the bed. 'Star sucks on Julio's bottom lip gently before pulling away and setting him down in just the same manner, head cradled in his hand as he lays him on the pillow. He wants to say something but he doesn't have the words. He hopes Julio knows what he means to do just by his actions.

Julio sits up just enough to unwind his scarf and tug his shirt off over his head, dropping it onto the floor without a thought. He craves skin-to-skin contact even more than usual, wants to shed his clothes and shed the night with them and just be with ‘Star. He knows how this is going to pan out. It’s been building up between them since they left Doug’s house, or maybe even since earlier. Since ‘Star asked him if they were boyfriends now, and since he said yes.

“Here,” he murmurs, as ‘Star settles in front of him, in between his legs as he parts them. “Let me…” he slips his fingers under the hem of ‘Star’s shirt and pulls it up, carefully not getting it stuck around his head. “You’re not hurt, are you?” He shouldn’t care, but something about the idea of accidentally pressing down on a cracked rib or pulling at a scar does just about the opposite of exciting him right now. There’s already enough hurt between them. He’s not here for that, at least not now.

"I am not hurt." 'Star's voice is hushed, like if he speaks any louder the moment will be shattered and they will return to their former selves. Like a spell was cast and it's important that they cherish it. He moves back after Julio tosses his shirt aside, pressing his chest to the other man’s bare one. "Are you?" He asks before pressing another soft kiss to his lips. 

"No," Julio shakes his head, then falters. "I mean -- not physically. I'm kinda," he breathes deep, and exhales in a sigh, "messed up, though, emotionally. There were some familiar faces back there. No-one I knew personally, but..." he falls silent and squeezes his eyes shut. "It's alright. _You're_ safe, and I've got you, and I think... I think that's all I need."

"You're all I want," 'Star says back. It’s the same thing for him. "Stay with me always, Julio." He whispers it and he actually means that, wants it more than anything. Maybe the moment is too raw and maybe he's not thinking straight but he doesn't care. At least not right now. 'Star cups Julio's face in his hands before he meets his eyes, just staring for a moment. 

"I --" Julio's eyes are wide, and his lips are parted in surprise and wonder and want. "I will," he answers, and he's confident in it. "I promise I will." He swallows, dry-mouthed, feeling like his heart has risen into his throat and stuck there, beating so hard it hurts. " _Te amo_ , 'Star. You know what that means, don't you? You must have looked it up or something."

"You've been telling me you love me,” ‘Star says, before averting his eyes. "But you only say it when you think I do not understand. In your secret language." That's not so secret anymore considering 'Star made it his personal goal to learn all he could of it. "Would you think me foolish to say that I love you as well?" It's a confession, it's a word that 'Star doesn't entirely know the meaning of. But if love isn't what is currently coursing between them, if it's not the feeling of his heart almost wanting to leap out of his chest, if it's not feeling that if something were to happen to Julio he wouldn't be able to live with himself then he doesn’t know what is. He might never know. 

"You're such an asshole," Julio mumbles, but there's a smile curling on his lips, warm and irrepressible. "You _knew._ You knew what it meant and you let me go on making an idiot of myself without sayin' it back." And then he has to look away, because he's grinning, and he can't stop himself. "I would not," he says, once he turns back again, "call you foolish for saying that. I know you, dude. You don't take things lightly. If you say that's what it is, then I guess that it must be."

"I meant to tell you that I had decoded your language earlier --" 'Star pulls back just a little. "But I was waiting for the right moment." And the moment he was waiting for was for Julio to say something and for him to be able to murmur it back, to catch the other man off guard and one up him. It all seems a bit irrelevant at the moment, however. At least in the face of all of this. "And I do mean it. As much as I can understand the concept."

"Looks to me like you understand it just fine," Julio tells him, following him when he pulls back. "And... I think this was the right moment. This is..." His lips meet 'Star's before the sentence ends, and he makes no attempt to finish it. 

He's slow, and so feather-light that 'Star can barely feel it, and then his hand is in 'Star's hair and his thighs are snug around 'Star's waist and he kisses 'Star like he needs it. He sucks 'Star's lower lip between his own, feels the press of their noses together and the warmth of 'Star's hands on his bare back, and he's not so much hungry or desperate as he is uncovered and vulnerable but he trusts him. He trusts 'Star with everything.

This is different than anything else they have done together. 'Star feels close, closer than he has to anything or anyone since he first arrived on Earth. He used to feel that connections were useless, that humans would only slow him down and get in his way. And while that is still true for the most part, Julio seems to exceed his expectations every time. 'Star takes time to kiss back with just as much vigor and to press their noses together when he finally pulls away to breathe. 

" _Te amo,_ Julio." He says it with a strange accent, but he says it all the same.

_That’s dangerous_ , Julio thinks. Not the bit about ‘Star loving him -- the more he learns about that, the less dangerous it seems -- but the way he sounds when he’s speaking Spanish. Julio has what he recognizes as an addictive personality, and that voice and those words could become a fixation for him. He sees himself craving it the same way he craves cigarettes and alcohol and violence, and then he can’t help but wonder whether he’s felt that way about ‘Star in general all along.

“I’ll teach you how to speak it properly,” he says, “if you want.” But first there’s the matter of this mood between them, of the hot softness of ‘Star’s chest against his own, of the dark haze of lust in ‘Star’s single black pupil (Julio has never asked about the opposing white eye, but he thinks he will, after this), and of their hands, held in Julio’s lap with intertwined fingers.

'Star nods, taking a breath. "I would like that." He would, he would like a way to connect with Julio and maybe sate his emotional needs the way he has his physical ones before. "I would like to whisper secrets between us," he leans in again, this time to nip at Julio's ear softly. "Talk of our misdeeds in front of others and have no one be the wiser." Those words have a bit of a dark edge to them but it doesn't shatter the mood. 'Star runs his tongue along the shell of Julio's ear before blowing on it just gently and moving down to kiss his neck again. He feels him shiver at that and shivers in return.

"What are we doing here, _cariño_?" Julio mumbles, shifting in 'Star's arms as goosebumps rise on his skin and lightning crawls up his spine. "I mean -- what do you need?" He thinks he knows, at least in vague terms. The mood of it all, this new and gentle way they've been touching each other; that's the core of this. What Julio needs is the specifics. If this is what it’s going to take for ‘Star to start dealing with his newfound emotions, his sympathy and his sadness, then Julio wants to make sure he does it right. This isn’t new to him, but he’s so unpracticed it makes him want to scream into a pillow or pull at his hair. Trust him to be incompetent at the most important thing he’ll ever have to do.

“I’m out of my depth,” he admits, and he hates it. Hates showing weakness, and hates the fact that it doesn’t feel bad to do it even more. ‘Star should be pulling him up for that, picking at it like a crack in his armor (and it is, or at least he’s always thought of it that way), but he isn’t. All he’s doing is listening. “I guess we’ve got that in common,” Julio continues, letting go of ‘Star’s left hand with his right and carefully, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from ‘Star’s eyes. “But we’ll work it out, no? Just like we always do.”

"I need to show you how I am feeling. I need --" 'Star needs to be able to express what kind of warmth that is curled in his chest. Normally, if this were any other time, he'd reel back and hit Julio so hard that he might break his nose or dislocate his jaw. It's their game, but right now there is no place for that. His rage is gone, quelled with sadness and something else that he's not sure he's equipped to explain. Love seems to cover it but it feels so much more complex than that.   
"Whatever this is," 'Star offers. "We will be together to figure it out." He can't imagine it any other way. And maybe it is too late, maybe 'Star won't be able to really understand all of this, but he is going to try with Julio. Only with Julio. He may just be the only one that deserves it. 

"Okay," Julio says, with a swallow, and a nervous nod. He hasn't moved to undress either of them further. His jeans sit low on his hips and his boots probably shouldn't be anywhere near the bed, given their condition. 'Star's are probably worse. He adds that to the list of things he doesn't presently care about and continues to talk. 

"Alright, dude. Uh... just... just lay it on me, y'know? Whatever you wanna do." He feels like a different person, neither giving orders or subtly suggesting them, but it's not unwelcome. This is who he needs to be right now.

"Let me make love to you." 'Star almost doesn't know what he's asking, but he's asking it all the same. He wants to lay Julio back against the pillows and wind him up with gentle touches and even gentler words. He will crack him open and expose him like he normally would but in a different way. 'Star moves without another word to take Julio's boots off, slipping them off and the socks along with them. He presses a kiss to the bottom of his foot before doing the same with the other and setting his boots beside the bed. "And let me get you out of those pants." It's hard to believe that just hours earlier he had been fishing to make Julio jealous. He can't even fathom that right now as he slides his hands up those tight jeans and tugs at the button before it finally opens. 

Julio's breath catches in his throat. "You..." he starts, and it's almost a whine, pitching up desperately when 'Star kisses his foot. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he says, settling back on his elbows with his back arched and his chest pushed out and his knees moving further apart of their own accord when 'Star's hands reach the waistband of his jeans. He won't play at disinterest, at teasing or making 'Star chase him. He wants this, needs it like air, and he doesn't mind if 'Star knows. He loves everything they do together and he doesn't need to say it, but this... 

"I never thought you'd want to," he says, very quietly. "I tried not to let myself hope."

"No need to dream about it any longer." 'Star leans in for another soft kiss. "I am going to make love to you and give you everything that you require." He doesn't know if he really understands the extent of what he's asking Julio for or how ill equipped the other man is at the emotions that are bubbling between them now, but he's going to attempt to take the lead. Show him just how he feels about him. No violence or anger, no pent up rage that's exhausted through biting and scratching and roughness. 'Star is going to make sure Julio sees the truth about how he feels about him tonight and that he never forgets it. Where that leaves them when the sun rises tomorrow, he doesn't know. 

Julio kisses him once more, humming happily against his lips, and then he shuffles backwards, backing into the pillows and lifting his hips so that he can slip out of his jeans and underwear. He pulls both articles of clothing off at once, and 'Star catches a glimpse of his boxer briefs, which are evidently patterned to match his scarf. 

"Do it, then," he says, once he's naked. He reaches up to push back his hair, then catches the subconscious motion and moves instead to finally untie it, letting it fall over his shoulder. He keeps the hairtie around his wrist like a bracelet. "I'm all yours," he says, with a shy smile. 

'Star actually smiles back, something genuine and without any of the eeriness that the action usual holds. "Hold still,” he says gently, leaning up and kissing Julio's chest and then moving down to place them on that chiselled stomach and then down that trail of hair before grabbing his legs and hefting them over his shoulders to place those same gentle, wet kisses on the curve of the shorter man’s ass. "Let me lick you till you're so loose I can slip right in." He moves to lick right across that taut muscle, experimenting with how far he can go before Julio cries out. 

Julio feels like crying out already. "Please," he gasps, trying not to squirm or shiver and failing miserably at both. 'Star is good at this but Julio is so wound up already that it wouldn't even matter if he wasn't. Without 'Star close enough to hold onto he settles instead for the pillows, clutching them tight as though it might stop him from feeling like he's about to float away. It doesn't.

And nothing will. 'Star doesn't let up, that _please_ urging him on like nothing else before it. He licks again in the same way before quickening his pace, short licks and laps with his whole tongue before growing bolder and spreading Julio wide before pressing his tongue inside of him. It's already wet and slick but that doesn't change the fact that 'Star is determined to make him even wetter and slicker.

“I’m ready,” Julio tells him soon after, and he’s more than that. He thinks he could come from this alone, just from the wetness of ‘Star’s tongue and the noises he makes and the sight of him with his face between Julio’s legs. Any other time he’d want to. He’d let ‘Star bring him to completion and then leave him unsatisfied in return, or pull him up just to finish on his face or his chest, but this isn’t going to be one of those times. He’ll kiss ‘Star when he comes back up, he thinks, regardless of where his mouth has been.

'Star gives one last lick, desperate in the way it feels and even wetter than the one before it. "You still taste delicious,” he murmurs before crawling up on top of him and pressing two fingers inside of him rather quickly. He wasn't lying about being ready. 'Star curls his fingers expertly and with just enough roughness to make Julio moan before he swallows it when he kisses him. His lips are wet from saliva and when he pushes his tongue into Julio's mouth it's messy and decadently satisfying.

For a minute all Julio can do is hold him there and let himself be kissed. He needs this so bad that his entire body seems to ache. His cock twitches and his heart pounds so hard that 'Star must almost be able to hear it and his hips seem to tremble of their own accord, desperate to be joined to him. There's a hollow feeling deep down in his body, an emptiness that he doesn't have a name for, but he does have a clue about what might fill it. 

He threads his fingers through 'Star's hair again. It's soft like silk threads, and even hours after showering it still smells of strawberries. The rest of him has a scent, too. Julio didn't notice it for weeks, but it's there, faint and focused on the parts of him no-one else gets to touch, and it turns Julio on just to think about it. 'Star is perfect. He didn't realize _that_ for weeks either, that somewhere among all this bickering and biting and scratching and awkward attempts to talk it over there's a unique sort of synergy, a rhythm that was meant for them. There is nobody else in the world he'd want to be with tonight.

'Star feels the same, but he can't quite express it in words. It's all wrapped up in Julio, all in the way he speaks and his arrogance, a facade for something else surely but it's so ingrained that the untrained eye wouldn't be able to see it. ‘Star sees it, and he’s been seeing it more and more and even though he doesn't really understand the underlying meaning of it all he thinks that after tonight, after all of this, he might understand it a little better. 

“I really do believe that I love you.” He wants Julio to know and he moves his fingers as if to try and convince him even more if he didn’t already. ‘Star has never been good with words and he still isn’t, he knows that he might never be, but he won’t need words when they are like this. All he needs is the way that his fingers curl inside of the man underneath him. The way that he knows there is this spot right under Julio’s ear on his neck that makes him gasp any time it is kissed. Actions speak far louder than words anyhow.

"I know you do," Julio tells him, squirming and rolling his hips down to encourage 'Star to move. He needs this so much that it almost scares him; not the release or the satisfaction that usually comes with bringing 'Star to the edge, but just the closeness of it and the comfort that comes with being able to trust himself to someone completely. He's slipping, letting his guard down, and with it comes quiet noises (unlike his usual unashamed moans, and somehow these are so much more intimate) and expressions he'd usually go to great lengths to hide. 'Star kisses that spot on his neck and he almost sobs, muffling the noise against 'Star's shoulders. 

"Please," he begs, though for once he doesn't have to. "I need it. _Now,_ babe. I don't wanna wait any longer." His mind is still racing, and every time he closes his eyes he sees those faces from the building, blue-tinged and wrapped in plastic. So he doesn't close his eyes. He keeps them fixed on 'Star, who's warm and alive and with him, and _oh god,_ Julio thinks, _I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't._

‘Star is going to erase all of those thoughts, blur every memory and bring new ones into focus. He withdraws his fingers slowly, gently, mercifully and slicks himself with spit. “Relax,” he warns as he presses a kiss to Julio’s lips one more time before pressing the head of his cock against his stretched hole. He takes a breath and then slides in, a strangled gasp and moan taking the place of ‘Star’s ragged breathing. He can’t help himself and he slides all the way in without any more warning. He knows that Julio is ready, but something inside of him right now wants to extend him the courtesy of telling him when he thrusts in further. “Feels so good--” It’s an understatement. Not only is the physical pleasure there, ‘Star feels whole when he’s this close to Julio, like he’s found a piece he didn’t even know he was missing.

Julio whimpers, biting his lip and feeling himself tighten around ‘Star in reaction. He breathes deep, willing himself to relax, and soon he does. It’s not difficult, he finds, when you’re close to somebody you trust. 

“Go on,” he tells him. “I’m ready.” He either is or he’ll never be -- ‘Star is unmoving and so deep inside him and he almost feels too full, like if they carry on like this there’ll be no room left for Julio to feel anything else. He realizes that’s precisely what he wants. “‘Star,” he breathes, looking up at him with open adoration in his eyes, “you’re exactly what I need right now.” 

“Good.” ‘Star seals it with a kiss, making sure he stays close as he pulls out just slightly and snaps his hips forward to hear Julio moan. He’s not doing this for his own pleasure though there is plenty of that, he’s doing this for the other man. He’s doing this so what remains cemented through everything that happened tonight is their love for each other. So that no matter what state they return to after, they will always remember that this happened, that they made love and became so intertwined that their souls might have even brushed together just for a moment. It’s romantic and it’s everything that they are not, but ‘Star wants it to be. He wants this to be them and he hopes that Julio feels the same way.

Julio isn’t sure what _making love_ is supposed to feel like. Nobody’s ever done it to him before, and he’s certainly never done it in return. He doesn’t fall for gentle touches, doesn’t do soft kisses in the dark or whispered confessions or _trust._

Or at least he didn’t think he would, until he met ‘Star. Of all the people to be doing this with… no. That isn’t right. Of all the people to be doing this with, ‘Star is the best possible candidate. Or… the only possible candidate. Julio can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. Thinking back, he realizes he’s never really _wanted_ this from anyone else.

And that’s a lot to think about. Too much, maybe. So it’s lucky that ‘Star wasn’t wrong about being able to distract him. 

They are a tangle of emotions, of moans and kisses and so many things that 'Star can't quite focus on all of them. This started out as a distraction and it is, but now it's so much more than that. He's pouring himself out to Julio, not saying anything but peeling back all the layers somehow. This is 'Star, this is what he always could have been. What he should have been. The gentle lover in the dark, the man that can wipe away every thought inside of Julio's mind save for thoughts of the two of them. Someone capable of so much more than just killing. 'Star kisses Julio as he continues their rhythm, rolling his hips and knowing he's getting so very close to the edge but not willing to letting himself tumble over yet. Julio needs a little more from him. 

How they went from snarling and spitting blood and pushing away from one another like the unmatched poles of magnets to _this_ , Julio doesn’t know. It’s like ‘Star knows him better than he knows himself, reveres him in his touches and works him up so much he can’t stand it. He draws Julio to the edge with the same perfect balance of passion and precision he gives to everything else he loves, lifting his hips at just the right angle and fucking him until he’s seeing spots and crying out with every motion. Julio loses himself, lets himself blank out and fall and trusts ‘Star to catch him. He sobs his name in near-silence ( _Darkstar,_ but damn if he isn’t the brightest thing on Julio’s horizon right now), and when he opens his eyes he’s safe in ‘Star’s arms, held and loved and home. 

"Come for me, Julio." 'Star's tone is rich and deep, no growl or bitterness mixed in. He wants what he asked for, not for the satisfaction of knowing that he made Julio come but because he wants his partner to feel the pleasure of it. He wants to share that with him. He wants to revel in it when they are done. He never wants to forget this moment. 'Star snaps his hips again and makes sure to press his lips to Julio's as he trembles close to his own climax. He wants to come but he wants it to be perfect. "I am close but I want you to come." He wraps his hand around Julio's cock as he speaks, buried so deep and inches away from red lips. 'Star doesn't know how they got to this place, but he knows that he doesn't want to go back to where they were before. 

“Please,” Julio whimpers, as though he needs to; as though ‘Star isn’t already giving him everything he wants, everything he could dream of but never even dared to. He comes with his head thrown back and his eyes closed and a smile on his lips, squeezing tight around ‘Star and spilling hot over his hand. It’s all too much for him to bear, too much for him to process, but somehow he finds himself still wanting. He needs ‘Star to come with him; he’d never want to go where ‘Star couldn’t follow, and he wants to share everything with him. He knows this is going to be different, that when ‘Star finishes in him and fills him and falls sated on top of him he’ll feel worshipped instead of used, blessed instead of spent. There’s only one kind of ache he needs and it’s this, and maybe it always has been.

'Star aches too. When he feels his climax taking hold of him he moans and thrusts once more before spilling inside of Julio and feeling his lover squeeze him tight in return. It's an overwhelming pleasure and he's left panting against Julio's neck before he kisses him there, gently, softly, and moves up to his ear. 

"I love you." It might have felt strange to say it before, but it doesn't in this moment. It's one of the only things that feels right. 'Star is exhausted, and he kisses Julio's ear before he warns him about pulling out. He's slow when he does it and aches when he's not swathed in tight heat. 

Julio might not have the words but at least he knows how to act. He holds his arms out, beckoning for 'Star to come up and be close to him. He hates the feeling of being empty, of being apart from him (he felt like they spent the whole night trying to get near to each other, close enough that they might meld together into one, and almost reached that only to fall short at the last moment), but he was right about how he'd feel after. Not used up, but healed; not debased, but loved. He turns onto his side, kicking his feet against the cool side of the blankets, and notices that it's silent outside; no rain, no cars, no sounds of human voices. Just Julio and Darkstar and the night. 

"Love you too, 'Star." He pushes his hair out of his face, and settles against the pillows, and the night air is deliciously cool against the heat of his skin. "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [waves hands] Character development! Thanks so much for sticking around long enough to see these guys 'fess up about their feelings. We're not nearly done with the story yet, so stay tuned for the continuation of the MGH plot and the details of the morning after.
> 
> We're on tumblr as officialrobliefeld (kronut) and geneticghost (geneticghost), so drop us a line there if you don't want to comment here. Please leave kudos if you liked the fic!
> 
> PS: apparently there's discussion of this fic and Light Years on tumblr??? Where??? Tag us in it! Also, if you've ever done fanart, let us know so we can feature it in a chapter (I feel super arrogant for even suggesting that someone would do that but like, you never know, right?).


	8. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys try to make sense of who they are in the wake of their night together, and catch up with some old friends.

It's the morning after as 'Star is attempting to find milk in the refrigerator that he hears Julio's phone ring. He ignores it at first, returning to his pursuit for something, anything that isn't coffee to drink. Julio seems to live off the substance which may be fine for him, but it's certainly not ideal for 'Star. Milk isn’t either, he just knows there is no fruit juice. He's several minutes into looking when he hears the phone ring for a third time. He narrows his eyes. Julio is still asleep and as far as 'Star is concerned he’s not to be bothered by phone calls this early in the morning. 

It's at the fourth ring that he finally relents and picks it up. "Julio is not awake at the moment. Is there something you need?" He's not exactly rude about it, but his tone is still chilly when he speaks. 

Whoever is on the other end of the line squeals so loud the phone crackles. "I knew it!" The voice is high-pitched, Brooklyn accented, and victorious. "I _knew_ this was why he hasn't been calling me." It's seven in the morning, but the girl on the phone is chewing bubble gum; 'Star can hear the bubbles crack over the phone. 

"It's _you._ Tall, ginger and stabby. Home invasion blowjob guy. The only person Julio lets into his dumb car. TV alien. _Beam me up, hottie!_ Y'know," she says, "the crush. _You."_ She pauses again to crack her gum, and her next reply is sheepish. "He, uh, never told me your name. Probably thought I'd steal you away or somethin'. He's pretty over-protective."

"Calm yourself." 'Star says but his expression that the woman thankfully can't see is positively confused. Half of those things she said do not even make sense. "My name is Darkstar,” he says flatly, but there is something else in his voice. Even if he's confused it's hard to not be slightly amused at least. "Julio is not dead if that is what your concern is. He is simply asleep. Who would you be?" 'Star leans on the counter, staring out the balcony at the rising sun. "It is only right I know how to identify you considering you seem to know of me." 

“Tabitha Smith,” says Tabitha, voice suddenly flat and suspicious. “Why would I think… _ugh._ Just wake him up, will you? Tell him it’s Boomer, and she’s pissed.” She is, a little, even if she was briefly distracted by the glee of getting to talk to Julio’s new squeeze. She’s not planning anything; she just knows exactly how he’s going to react to knowing someone touched his phone, and it’s _hilarious._ “Go on, he’s not gonna be mad.” She pushes her gum to the side of her mouth, and bites her lip to stifle a giggle. “I’m sure he’s gonna be really pleased to hear from me.”

"Mm." 'Star knows that this is not a good idea, but he is still too consumed in his pursuit of some sort of non-caffeinated beverage that he doesn't seem to care. "I will bring the phone to him. However, if he does not wish to speak with you I will hang up." He sighs and walks back into the bedroom, looking at Julio who is still fast asleep before stalking over to the bed. 

"Julio,” ‘Star says softly, softer than he was speaking to Tabitha. "There is someone named Boomer on the phone for you." 

Julio folds his pillow around his head and groans. "'Kay," he grumbles, peeking out from under it and blinking sleep out of his eyes. Even with those dark circles and the three days' worth of stubble on his face and a scowl, he somehow looks glowing. He holds out his hand for the phone. 

"Tabby-cat," he says in greeting, as grouchily as someone who's using such an inane nickname can be. He sits up, patting the pillow next to him to invite 'Star to sit down, and keeps the phone pressed to his ear with his other hand. "There something up or did you just call 'cause you thought it'd be funny to wake me?" It's happened before.

"Little of both," Tabitha confirms.

'Star takes a seat, wondering how humans can come up with such strange nicknames for each other and deciding that it's not worth thinking about for too long. "I told her that you were not dead. In case it was a concern,” he clarifies, leaning a bit closer to try and hear the conversation. He doesn't notice his own phone is ringing on the side table. 

Julio snakes his arm around ‘Star’s waist and pulls him close before telling Tabitha to hold on while he sets the phone to speaker. “There. No more eavesdropping.” ‘Star might not have noticed, but Julio did. 

“‘Star, this is Tabs. Tabs, ‘Star.” He yawns. “So -- you were tellin’ me about… uh,” he presses his face against ‘Star’s shirt in that sleepy, unselfconsciously snuggly way that comes with just waking up, and pulls away blinking. “I kinda wasn’t listening. Um. Tell us again?” _Or call back in an hour. Or two hours. Or, y’know, just let me call you back._ ‘Star is a warm and welcome presence in his bed, smelling like nice shampoo and early mornings and distinctly also like Julio. _Fuck it, Boomer, just call me back tomorrow._

"Julio… my phone is ringing now." 'Star looks at him quizzically, running his fingers through his hair before he leans back and flips his own phone open. "Hello?" He can still hear Boomer’s voice in the background as he answers his own call. It strikes him as strange that they are both receiving phone calls this morning considering the only person that calls him regularly is Scott Summers. That is not the person he wishes to speak to this morning. 

Julio gives him an irritated look but keeps silent, listening closely to Tabitha's side of the conversation.

"Madrox told me about the MGH facility," she says, and Julio's stomach twists almost painfully.

"Tabs --"

"I can't believe you didn't call! Me an' Lucia and Feral would've been all over that job. Saving our fellow muties from scientific peril? C'mon, Ricky, that's our _sphere._ So what is it? Did you get so caught up in your new guy that you forgot about your main babe Boomer? I --"

" _Tabs,_ " Julio interrupts her again, feeling the blood drain from his face and an uncomfortable, unsteady rhythm work its way into his pulse. 

'Star knits his eyebrows together as he looks at Julio's expression, hearing static on the end of the line from his phone and the very brief hint of someone's voice before it disconnects. Strange. Not maybe people have his number and he's wondering if what just happened should concern him. 

"The MGH facility raid was not a triumph," 'Star says flatly to Tabitha on the phone. "There was only one survivor out of many mutants. It was not pleasant." His hand moves to rest on Julio's thigh, squeezing in reassurance that what they gained last night is not lost this morning. How could it be? 'Star only wishes they would have had more of a reprieve between last night and this morning. He wanted to forget for just a while longer. 

Julio flashes him a desperate look, wide-eyed and knitting his brow. ‘Star holds out his arms, and Julio falls into them in silence. ‘Star lays back, and Julio rests his head on his chest, keeping one arm wrapped securely around his waist. He feels… not _better_ , exactly, but safer. He didn’t even realize he felt unsafe in the first place.

“Oh.” Tabitha’s voice is quiet, and Julio can almost see the way her face must have fallen when she heard that. “So -- you said one guy made it out?” Somehow, under everything else she is and does and stands for, Tabitha has always been an optimist.

"A woman by the name of Alison Blaire," 'Star informs her, knowing that he will have to speak for Julio but for once not minding. "She is safe now thanks to Julio and the building has been razed to the ground." Also thanks to Julio. 'Star wouldn't usually push the credit off on someone else, but Julio deserves it and at least in one instance they are both heroes. 'Star runs his hand through his lover’s hair soothingly, attempting to relax him. "There is nothing further to do at the facility." Though there are many things they have yet to do and exacting revenge against Pietro Maximoff is one of them. 

“Where is she now?” Tabitha’s question comes quick as lightning after ‘Star finishes talking, like she’d been itching to ask it ever since he mentioned a name. The near-incessant sound of her cracking gum has mercifully ceased.

“With Doug,” Julio answers. “She wasn’t doing so great when we found her, but he said he’d be able to help.” He pauses. “It’s probably too early to ask, but you’ve still got that spare room in the loft, yeah? Feral’s not usin’ it to store dead lizards and severed heads or anything?” He’s joking, he thinks. Probably.

'Star opens his mouth to make a comment about that last bit, but it's lost to him. He doesn't know this person on the phone and he doesn't truly know Alison Blaire either, but something inside of him makes him not want to send her off to live with individuals that he doesn't know he can trust. Doug was one thing, but this is something completely different. 

"She gets to make her own decision about where she will go after she recovers," 'Star says finally, after letting that thought simmer for awhile. There is absolutely no way to confirm his suspicion about Alison, and he shouldn't care one way or another what happens after her life was saved. _But…_ But he does. "She has had that choice ripped away from her already. The least we can do is give her some sort of control back." 

Julio sits up a little just to look at him. “Dude, yeah, of course. I’m not gonna force her to go anywhere.” He’ll explain it all to ‘Star later. Tabs and Thornn and Feral, and who they are, and what they do; everything they’re running from, and everyone who’s running from them. He’s seen them take people in before (always mutants, always women, always from some horrible circumstance), and he knows they’d be there to help Alison in a heartbeat. “I just wanted to make sure she had options, in case she’s got nowhere else to go. I feel… I dunno, responsible.” _Ugh, responsibility. Is that who I am now?_

“Option’s open,” Tabitha tells him immediately. “Hope she doesn’t need it, though.”

"We should check on her," 'Star says quickly. "We should make sure she is okay before we ask her about this." Feeling like this makes him uneasy. One new connection is quite enough and he's still trying to feel it out. He hesitates for a second before he says his next words. "Thank you--for offering to house her." 'Star sounds like he's almost choking on the words. "Thank you, Boomer." 

Maybe there is something to this mutant solidarity after all.

Julio squeezes him a bit tighter. “We can go tonight, if you want.” After he calls Doug, of course. Alison might not even be awake yet, but he has a feeling that just seeing her outside the context of all the madness of last night… the whole thing had been a nightmare, and it would help to know that all three of them woke up from it. “And thanks, Tabs. You’re a pal.” She’s his _best_ pal. Apart from ‘Star, of course. 

“I dunno what her power is. I never found out. Can’t be anything worse than shedding and hairballs, though.” The Callasantos sisters are not his pals, even if he does like visiting just to chat to them in Spanish. Although, he guesses he can do the same with ‘Star now, as of last night. _God,_ he thinks, burying his face against ‘Star’s chest to hide the smile that creeps across his lips. It’s not the time for that, but he can’t help it. _He knew all along -- or not quite all along, but long enough. Long enough to know I loved him, to hear me calling him darling and sweetheart and all that. Man._ It was funny at first, seeing how far he could take it, calling ‘Star all these uncharacteristically sweet things without fear of retaliation, but now… now it makes his heart skip a beat whenever he thinks about it. _He loves me. And how long has it been since I’ve really loved someone back?_

“Speakin’ of, I think they’re having another catfight.” Boomer sighs. In the background, Julio hears the scrape of disrupted furniture and a distinctly feline hiss.

“Put me on loud,” Julio grumbles, hearing a muffled click as Boomer complies. He lifts the phone to his mouth, and shouts something distinctly unimpressed-sounding in Spanish, and the hissing on the other end of the line ceases only to give way to a sharp retaliation, also in Spanish, from Feral. Julio just laughs. “‘Star, did you catch that?” He kind of hopes he didn’t. Feral’s insults are too nasty for his innocent alien ears, and the one he just got called was worse than usual.

"Did she --" 'Star pulls a face. He understood it just enough. Cursing like that has always struck him as rather lewd. 'Star prefers to show people exactly how displeased he is rather than tell them. Julio knows that first hand. Cuts and bruises and many, many broken bones. Some worse than others. 

"Are we done here?" He nods at the phone and ignores his own phone ringing again. He hasn't had any juice this morning, or the luxury of laying in bed with Julio a bit longer, both things he distinctly would like after last night. Though this Tabitha Smith certainly seems interesting. 

“If you’ve got somewhere else to be,” Tabitha says, with the suspicious, muted air of someone who might be about to laugh. She doesn’t, and fills the silence after she speaks by cracking another bubble. 

‘Star twitches almost imperceptibly.

“You get used to it,” Julio mumbles, turning his head to press a quick kiss to the centre of ‘Star’s chest. Apparently there’s a heart in there somewhere. Who knew? “Yeah, I’ve got somewhere else to be,” Julio speaks into the phone again. “I --”

“What, like, where?” Tabitha interjects. “On your boyfriend’s d --”

“Good _bye,_ Tabitha,” Julio interrupts, and ends the call.

"She is an interesting human." 'Star takes a moment to process what she was just about to say and squints. "She is a friend of yours then?" He already knows the answer, but he figures he might clarify anyway. They may know more about each other now than they ever have but the details of their connections to other mutants and various team affiliations have rarely been mentioned. They work best as partners and only in very grave circumstances would either one of them ever need to call on their acquaintances. They certainly wouldn't be called friends, would they? Maybe in Julio's case but certainly not his. 

He's only ever had one other partner. 

“Yeah,” Julio says, placing the phone safely on the bedside table before catching ‘Star around the waist and pulling him into the centre of the bed properly. He winds up on his back, head sinking blissfully into the pillows, with ‘Star all but on top of him. With the covers pulled back (they’re tangled around his legs, but he doesn’t mind that), it’s evident that he’s still in the pyjama shorts ‘Star picked out for him. 

“She’s great. I mean -- awful, but great. We go way back. Had this team called the X-Terminators -- it was nothin’, really, just me and Tabs and a couple other kids trying to see how much damage we could cause. And then we were in X-Force -- Cable’s part of it, I mean, after the split -- with, uh, the Callasantos sisters, who you heard over the phone.” _And with Jimmy,_ Julio thinks. Now is probably not the time to be talking about his exes, though. “After I left we tried to start a team on our own, but that was a fucking nightmare. Spent more time fighting over who got to blow stuff up than we did on actual jobs. You’re a much better partner.”

"I used to think I worked better alone," 'Star muses. "Cyclops attempted to tell me this as well, but perhaps he was wrong about that just as he has been wrong about many things." Though the MGH raids and the SHIELD operations certainly have been right on the mark. "I was never a part of his X-Men. I was always supposed to lay low in the shadows." And that most of all probably attributed to him being the way he is -- no, the way he was before Julio. Even in the worst of ways, even in their mutual violence they have always been something more than that. Even if 'Star didn't realize it. 

“Is that who picked out your uniform? That snippy, uptight fuck?” Julio snorts. “I mean, I’m not complaining. It looks great on you. I just shoulda guessed, that’s all.” ‘Star’s uniform looks like it was designed without any thought for how the man is supposed to get out of it, which given what ‘Star has said about how Scott treats him (not like a person, but a weapon; a tool to be brought out whenever he needs it instead of a man with needs and wants and a life outside of his work) wouldn’t be beyond the realm of probability. 

“Y’know, I respect the guy’s methods,” Julio totally doesn’t, “but I reckon if he ever managed to pull that stick out of his ass he could probably use it to defend himself and then he wouldn’t need you guys at all.”

"I am an asset. That is what he told me,” ‘Star explains. "Or at least that is what he has told me." Though the X-Men seem to be able to stand on their own most of the time anyway. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t had contact with any of them almost since he started working with Julio. "Do you know any of them?" 

Julio doesn’t sit up like he wants to -- ‘Star is still on top of him, and he’s not weighing him down but Julio doesn’t want to push him off nonetheless -- but he does look up at him in barely concealed horror. “‘Star,” he says firmly, “you’re not an _asset._ You’re a person. Why would you work for someone who just -- just points you at people and pulls the trigger?” Julio is hotheaded and he’ll admit to having a lot of proverbial buttons, and that statement pushed at least half of them. 

And then it gets worse. “Wait, it’s not -- it’s not like _us,_ is it? You don’t -- tell me you don’t think about him giving you orders the same way you think about _me_ doing it.” There’s no jealousy in his voice, just concern. There’s a line between playing around and becoming exactly the kind of person he’s spent most of his life avoiding, and for a moment Julio worries that he’s crossed it.

"I had no one else," 'Star answers the first question first, slumping just a little but not even realizing that he's doing it. "I was -- I had thought that I was created for battle. A warrior born and bred for little else." He takes a breath. "Before you, there was just the mission." And brief interludes of television shows. 

"You are not like anyone I have ever met." And hopefully that makes Julio feel better about the comparison he just made. "I love you." 'Star blinks and attempts somewhat of a pained smile after that statement. It's true, more true than anything else 'Star has ever known, but something in this moment makes him hurt.

“I know,” Julio tells him, feeling him slump and guiding him to the side, laying him carefully on the pillow before gently tilting his chin up. “You don’t have to say it just to reassure me, or if it’s difficult.” The smile that follows is gentle, and it comes more naturally to him than he expected. “It kinda looked like it was difficult. We can work on that, if you want. It’s okay if you’re not ready.” Are either of them? Both he and ‘Star are so messed up that he can hardly tell where his problems end and ‘Star’s begin. If ‘Star’s right, and Julio really is the first person who’s ever really cared, then Julio can’t help but think he deserves better.

Or maybe not. Maybe they’re just as right for each other as they felt last night; maybe they’re perfect simply on the shared basis that they’re _not._ Either way, Julio can’t see himself letting go of ‘Star anytime soon. “I love you too,” he adds, then smirks. “You know that, right? You haven’t forgotten since last night, or anything?”

"Do not be foolish. I have not forgotten anything nor do I forget." That part might not really be true but 'Star has a very sharp memory and he remembers pretty much everything anyone has ever told him. Things that are of use and then some things that are certainly not. 'Star knows the exact TV programming schedule of the basic cable channels and he knows exactly when the local grocery store gets in all the strawberry poptarts. All important information. "And I do not think that I would ever be able to forget what we did last night. Not at all." Actually. He'd fight tooth and nail to never forget last night. Good and bad parts. It's -- shifted something inside of him. 

“Me neither,” Julio assures him. This is the first time he’s ever felt bad about using sarcasm that ‘Star didn’t understand. He hates feeling bad about things. He’s definitely not used to it. “I was kidding. I know you wouldn’t forget about that. That was -- it was special. _We’re_ special.” Why is it that all his supposed wordiness fails him whenever he needs it most? ‘Star once told him that he had a way with words, that he was persuasive, that he was skilled. He doesn’t feel like he’s any of those things right now. Last night laid him bare, and he hasn’t had a chance to cover up yet. 

If Julio was laid bare, 'Star feels like he’s an open wound, something that still needs to be stitched back together. "I know. I have known..." All the times that Julio called him those names in Spanish. 'Star wonders how long ago this thing between them, this softness, started. "Julio, I --" 

‘Star’s eyes go wide for a moment before he springs up and pushes Julio down on the bed, swiftly grabbing a knife from under his side of the mattress before taking a defensive stance by the door. Someone has infiltrated the apartment. "Show yourself, coward!" 'Star is quite the sight brandishing a knife in just his underwear. 

Julio is out of bed in an instant, kicking the blankets away to untangle himself. He falls into place beside ‘Star without even thinking about it, feet apart in a fighting stance with power emanating in waves from his fists. _This is about last night_ , he thinks, blood running cold as he waits. They should have been expecting retaliation. He did destroy a whole building, after all, and one in the middle of the city no less. He just thought it would take longer. He thought they’d have more time. 

“Get your ass out here and fight us,” he snarls, far more confident than he feels. He steps back, finding himself back-to-back with ‘Star, and suddenly some of that confidence is real. “You think you’ve got a chance? Did you _see_ what that building looked like after we were done with it?”

It's silent for a moment before there is a short laugh from the other side of the door. 

"So it is true." It's a woman's voice. "'Star, if you’d answered your phone I wouldn't have had to interrupt your -- well whatever it is you're doing in there." 

'Star scowls for a moment before sighing and opening the door, putting his hand out to tell Julio to stand down. "Domino,” he says flatly. "What are you doing here?" 

A woman stands on the other side of the door, clad in a tight black uniform with her hands on her hips. Her skin is tinged bluish-white and she's got a very distinct mark over her right eye. "Looking for you. What are _you_ doing?" She looks him up and down and the answer is very obvious. 

“This is my house,” Julio says, eyebrows raised in disbelief. His voice cracks noticeably on the last syllable. “I’m doing -- I’m doing whatever I want because this is my own goddamn… house… who the fuck are you, anyway?” He’s still waiting for the adrenaline to stop coursing through his veins; he truly thought Maximoff had sent someone after them, someone scarier and deadlier than the catlike man they’d faced last time. “Why are you looking for him?” At least, he assumes she’s after ‘Star and not the both of them because he’s never met her before in his life, and he’s got a pretty good memory for mutant faces. Last night kind of proved that.

"Because he vanished off of the map and I'm trying to make sure he's not dead, that's why." Domino raises an eyebrow and looks Julio up and down when she finally gets a better view. 

"Well it's certainly not often that the word around the block is true, but..." She turns to 'Star after that and smirks a smirk that's somehow even scarier than 'Star's. "You're honestly dating someone and you didn't mention anything about me? I would say I'm shocked, but maybe that's not how your relationship works." 

"This is Domino." 'Star crosses his arms over his chest, knife still in hand. "She is one of my allies, we worked together for a time." 

Julio lets himself relax, shoulders sagging and feet returning to a normal position on the carpet. “Oh. Um. I… guess it’s nice to meet you, then. Sorry for thinkin’ you were here to kill us.”

Domino shrugs. “No harm done. It’s probably not an unfair assumption.”

Julio nods at her in acknowledgement, and Domino nods back. He wonders how close she and ‘Star are, or how close they _were_ ; he can’t imagine ‘Star being friends with someone the way he himself is friends with Tabitha, but then again ‘Star’s been doing all kinds of unexpected things lately. 

They stand there in silence for far too long after. Julio crosses his arms, realizes he’s mirroring ‘Star, and uncrosses them. Domino takes a long and very obvious look at Julio from his shoulders to his animal-print shorts. ‘Star clears his throat.

And then, because he can’t think of anything else to say, Julio asks Domino if she’d like to join them for coffee. 

\--

“So,” Domino takes a sip of her coffee (iced white chocolate mocha) before looking up at Julio and ‘Star from across the table. The coffee shop was her suggestion after Julio made the initial invitation. It’s safer seeing how Julio was right; their exploits last night didn't go unnoticed and there will be people coming for both he and ‘Star. “Are you two actually a thing now? Because I'm not sure if you noticed, ‘Star, but this line of work isn’t exactly the best for keeping connections.” She should know, she’s tried. If you don’t end up dead you end up being on different sides of the line drawn in the sand, no matter how unnecessary that line is. 

“I am with Julio, yes.” ‘Star hasn’t touched his drink. “We are partners now. Both for work and other activities.” He’s frowning just slightly but it’s only because he’s not sure what to say. Domino might have been the only person who managed to get anywhere near as close as Julio is to him now. She’s even called him her friend before, not that he believed it. 

“Other activities?” She has to stifle a laugh before he looks over at Julio. “What did you do to him? He seems different.” 

“What _didn’t_ I do?” Julio smirks, and ‘Star elbows him so hard under the table that he almost drops his coffee cup. 

“Boyfriends,” he clarifies, setting the cup down and rubbing at his ribs where ‘Star hurt them. “As well as partners.” In case it wasn’t clear, and it may not have been. “And I’m not on either side of the Scott-Nathan line, so I figure we’ve got a better chance than most.” He doesn’t miss the change in Domino’s expression when he says that second name. It’s nearly imperceptible -- just a slight creasing of her brow and a new and sudden glint in her eyes -- but he’s always been adept at reading people, and dealing with ‘Star has only made him better. He wants to ask her about it ( _So which one of them do you have a problem with?_ ), but for once he holds himself back.

“Well good for you, I guess.” Domino catches the way that Julio looks at her for a moment but decides to let it go. “No one can stay out of that mess for too long. Unless you’re Darkstar here.” She reaches over and pats his cheek with a bit of a smile and he actually lets her, even if he grimaces. “‘Star, you’ve always been good at staying out of trouble, but now you’re running head first into it?” By trouble she means anything messy. ‘Star has always gone in, gotten the job done and left. Vanished into thin air like he was never there at all. She wouldn’t use the word reckless but this other man has certainly done something to him. 

“Julio and I work as a unit. I do my job and then we --” And then they do what they want. In relative terms at least. “Tie up loose ends.” 

“Shaking down whole building is tying up loose ends?” Domino flicks her eyes to Julio and then back again. “Cyclops wants me to bring you back to Utopia.” She lets that sink in for a moment. “And just for the record, I do not want to do that.” 

Julio frowns, and leans in closer across the table, not to crowd anyone but just to keep his voice low. “Utopia is the bunker, right? Across the moat?” He keeps his tone light, feigning ignorance. He’s been there before for a recon job, tapping into their security system to check something or other (Julio doesn’t remember) for Cable. He swam the moat in the world’s least comfortable wetsuit, escorted by Jimmy (Tabitha and the cats wouldn’t go anywhere near the water, which was as irritating as it was unsurprising), only to find that Utopia’s firewalls were practically nonexistent, as were their outside guards. They probably could’ve driven there and stayed in the car, or sent someone else, or any one of the other hundreds of problems he pointed out to Cable after they were back. At least he got something out of it, though, even if that something ultimately turned out to be heartbreak.

He’s off-track again. “By _bringing him back,_ do you mean for -- I dunno, catching up over coffee -- or is this somethin’ worse? Because I’m kinda getting the feeling it might be something worse.” Not that he can think of anything much worse than having coffee with Scott Summers, but who knows?

“No.” ‘Star speaks out finally, grip tightening on his coffee cup. “He wants to take me back to Utopia so he can put me back into stasis.” His eyes turn hard at that. “It is his contingency when I get too -- acquainted with humans.” When they become obstacles that get in the way of the mission. When he becomes attached to things. The last time he has been in the city --

‘Star doesn’t even continue with that train of thought. “I told you. I am nothing more than a weapon to Cyclops and his X-Men.” Perhaps that last part is not true, but they certainly have never been welcoming. 

“That’s not going to happen, ‘Star.” Domino puts her hand over his, not even giving Julio room to do it. “I am not going to take you back there.” How could she when he has all of this? When he actually looks like he’s done some growing. She’s done Scott’s dirty work for too long. If he wants ‘Star he’s going to have to come get him himself. “But you’ve got to stop making messes like this.” 

“Damn right you’re not gonna take him back there.” Julio is beside himself. _Stasis? What the hell does that mean? Do they just --_

He doesn’t want to think about it. “You’re not going,” he tells ‘Star, taking his other hand and squeezing it a little too tight. He turns back to Domino. “What do you mean, messes like this? ‘Cause that building collapse was all me. Only thing ‘Star did there was save a woman’s life.” Well, not the only thing, but the only thing that matters. “So if you wanna go back and tell Scott Summers he’s coming after a guy just for rescuing some poor mutant, you can do that whenever. I’m sure he’s gonna love hearing that.” 

“You know what I mean, Richter.” Domino narrows his eyes at him. “The MGH recon was supposed to end when ‘Star got gutted bad enough to almost die. When you encountered Pietro Maximoff. What you’ve been doing, tracking down dealers, shaking down labs… that opens up doors that can’t be closed.” 

“It was my idea,” ‘Star finally speaks again, voice even-toned now when it hadn’t been moments ago. “Pietro Maximoff deserves to die. He ordered me killed and he is doing disgusting things with mutants.” 

“It’s not him, ‘Star.” Domino shakes her head. “He’s not the one in charge. He’s just as off kilter as any other MGH junkie. He’s just a figurehead and not the one you need to be going after.” Raven Darkholme… she is the mutant behind all of this. 

Julio is still thinking about that earlier statement -- _supposed to end._ He sinks his teeth into it, and he shakes. “What do you mean, supposed to? Were we just meant to stop with Howard Edwards, or Edward Howards or whoever the fuck -- why wasn’t someone else looking into this?” He thought Scott Summers’ whole thing was that he cared, or at least pretended to care, about mutants. At least Cable never pretended. Julio would take honest belligerence over false concern any day. 

"You should have been concerned about his safety." Domino doesn't have to even mention 'Star for Julio to know that's who she's talking about. "He's strong and he’s deadly but he's not invincible." She narrows her eyes. "The mutants you're tangling with don't have any moral code. They don't even pretend that they do." 

"I am sitting right here, Domino." 'Star is used to people speaking about him when he's around, as if he doesn't have a thought of his own and he used to care very little about that. Now, not so much. "Your concern is noted but I have not been doing anything that I did not want to do myself. Julio is not at fault." Julio makes him feel alive. He makes him feel like there is a real purpose behind things, even if that purposes is simply protecting one another. 

“More concerned about --” Julio stops, his suspicion and concern and annoyance bubbling over into barely-contained anger. It’s only made worse by the fact that he’s not even sure if he’s right. _Was_ this his fault? Was he reckless, and did he drag ‘Star down with him only to let ‘Star take the fall for all of it? If that’s the case, he’s certainly not going to admit it to Domino. 

“I’m his boyfriend, not his babysitter. You don’t think he can make his own decisions?” Arguing the point out loud makes him more certain, steeling his resolve. He was right; they both were. They did the right thing and they did it together. “We made the decision to chase that lead together, and I can’t speak for ‘Star, but I don’t regret following it. I think -- I think for once in our lives, we did the right thing.”

"Oh. Is this about you being a hero?" Domino says it and then sees the look on 'Star's face. "You did a good thing, you've been doing good things. But you're making a lot of enemies. Are you prepared to take that risk? If you walk down this road you can't hide in the shadows anymore." She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. "I came as a courtesy to you, 'Star. To tell you what's ahead. I don't want to see you hurt." And honestly, she doesn't want to see him lose this whole thing that he's seemed to have built. 

"I know what I am doing -- we know what we are doing." 'Star leans forward, looking at Domino and then Julio. "And you two should know that I do not attempt anything in which I am not prepared to accept the consequences of." Which mean that if this is the path he chooses to walk down, he will gladly die a warrior's death.

Julio squeezes his hand tighter, until he’s white-knuckled, until they both are. _I love you_ , he thinks, trying to project it with a sideways glance. It worked when they were fighting the catlike man. Julio thought something loud enough and desperate enough that ‘Star seemed to catch it; maybe this will run along the same channel, for it seems just as important. “So tell us,” he says, turning to Domino. “Tell us what’s ahead.” 

"A mutant named Mystique is running the show. She's the one that set all this up. Not really sure what she gets out of it, but it may not be anything at all save for suffering." That's the kind of person they are dealing with. Someone that doesn't even probably have an end game. Someone who just wanted to introduce a drug like MGH and see what would happen. "Her actual name is Raven Darkholme. I'm sure you've heard it around the circles you've been breaking up."

"I've heard her mentioned more than once. We have never encountered her, however." And it's a shame because there are things that 'Star would like to do to her, limbs and organs that he'd like to remove. 

"We got three names from Edwards when we interrogated him," Julio states. "Codenames, at least. Top Cat, Big Guy, and Blue. Top Cat we dealt with -- he's the one who came after 'Star -- and Raven isn't a guy's name, so I'm guessin' she's Blue. Why...?"

"She's blue," Domino shrugs. "I've only seen her once. One of our people had -- connections to her." Her eyes are steely. "We severed those connections." Across the table, 'Star nods in assent. "Haven't heard anything about her since. Until this, of course."

"She's dangerous and must be eliminated." 'Star narrows his eyes again. Someone the next table over overhears him and scoots his chair a little farther away from their table. For all he's learned, 'Star still speaks his mind rather loudly in public. "I will not allow her to come after Julio or I, or to continue to experiment on mutants." Aren't there enough humans in the world already doing that? They do not need one of their own doing it as well. 

“Ssh,” Julio hushes him, covering his hand with his own. “Not here. You’re right, though.” He looks up at Domino. He likes to think he’s good at reading people, and as far as he’s concerned this woman has _sharp_ and _quick_ and _deadly_ written in bold black-and-white newspaper headlines all over her. He works with it. 

“I’m gonna be straight with you, Dom,” he says, and she stifles a snicker, and he thinks for the first time since they met that he might actually grow to like her. “Right. I’m gonna be _upfront_ with you,” he amends, and she rolls her eyes as ‘Star looks between the two of them in confusion. “You’re right. We dove into this at the deep end and we’re having trouble holding each other up. So,” he says, and she _tsk_ s, like she knows exactly what’s coming, “throw us a lifeline, will you? Or at least one of those cute floaty ring things. You know the ones I mean.”

“Poetry,” Domino deadpans, and while she doesn’t roll her eyes literally Julio can’t shake the feeling that she might be doing it in her mind. “It’s been so long since I got myself dragged into a hopeless mission towards an entirely unattainable goal. I almost miss lost causes.” 

“So that’s a yes?” Julio raises an eyebrow.

"It's a yes." Domino sighs. She's probably going to regret this. She is almost regretting is now, but 'Star might actually need her for this and he actually seems -- well, _happy_ might actually be the right word for this. He's never been the best with delicate situations and even worse with people but it seems like he's trying and it seems like Julio, as brash as he is, has been guiding him along a path that's certainly better than the one Cyclops had in mind for him. Wouldn't take much though. "'Star, you have to learn to pick up your damn phone though." 

'Star actually pouts for a second. "It's mostly an unhelpful item. You should give your information to Julio. He's much better with phones." 

Julio smiles with a fond sort of exasperation, and pulls a black marker out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He scrawls his number on a napkin with all the flourish of a celebrity signing an autograph, but when he hands it to Domino and thanks her he's genuinely grateful. "I got a couple of other contacts who might want to be in on this. Mutants. Good people. I'm not a team player and I'm guessin' you're not either, but you said it yourself: this isn't going to be easy."

"We meet up with your team first. Then I'll decide if what we need for this is what they can bring to the table." Domino takes the napkin and takes one last sip of her coffee before leaning over and giving 'Star a quick kiss on the cheek. By all means, she can get away with it now. 

"Take care of yourself. And get rid of that phone if you're not going to use it. If Cyclops decided to come after you, that's how he's going to figure out where you are." 

'Star might not be blushing but he certainly is doing a close approximation to it. "I-I will." She's never shown an open display of affection like that to him before, but maybe that's because he's never been or seemed receptive. Does he seem receptive now? 

\--

They drive out to the moat after they leave the coffee shop. It’s not raining but it’s bleak, grey and dreary even after they pass the city limits and the bare horizon comes into view. Julio parks close to the shore, gets out, draws back, and pitches ‘Star’s phone as far as he can across the water. It comes down so far out that he barely hears it as it impacts the water, and barely sees the splash.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he assures ‘Star, who looks a little bit dejected. “Anything you want. Something with a better camera, and more space for music.” He realizes as he says it that he doesn’t have any photos with ‘Star. Nothing exists to show that they’re together; they’ve left no trace, worked in the dark and loved in it too. If they were to die -- if this whole operation with the MGH plot and Raven Darkholme were to go as wrong as Julio worries it will, and they can’t fight the waves anymore and get pulled under, nothing will be left of them save for a few loose tiles in the shower in Julio’s apartment and the testimony of two close friends. 

Julio pulls his own phone out of his pocket so fast he almost drops it, throws his arm around ‘Star’s shoulders, and opens the camera. “Smile,” he says, but neither of them are; ‘Star is looking a little bit concerned, and Julio is kissing his cheek, closing his eyes and gripping his shoulder fiercely. “We’re not bad looking, huh?” he says, once it’s done, and shows ‘Star the photo. He’s not wrong, but the humor in his voice is a little too forced.

“I look confused.” ‘Star almost deadpans, but his voice not entirely without some sort of emotion. It rarely is these days. He stares at Julio a moment before he leans on his shoulder. “I am sorry that Domino ruined our morning.” She did but at the same time she didn’t and he is glad that in some capacity Julio knows what is going on, especially with Cyclops and the potential threat that lay unresolved. He’s feeling rather raw after that conversation, feeling like maybe he should have been more forthright with the information surrounding just what his affiliation with the X-Men was. 

He had told Julio that he was their weapon, a tool to be used. He simply didn’t tell him that it was in much of a literal sense. He’s accustomed to being used and then put away until he’s useful again. ‘Star hadn’t thought anything of it until Julio had squirmed into his life. Now just thinking about going back to an existence like that unsettles him more that he will ever admit. If Scott Summers thinks you’re dangerous, team member or not, he’ll find a way to deal with you. It’s his contingency plan. 

‘Star is a weapon, a warrior and someone who you do not want to get out of control, or at least that’s what Cyclops would say if he were asked about Darkstar. Darkstar himself might have agreed, up until recently. 

“And I am sorry I did not tell you any of what Domino mentioned earlier.” Truth be told, they had gotten so wrapped up in all of this that he didn’t even think to say anything about his old team at all. 

‘Star doesn’t bother to ask about the picture that Julio just took. He thinks he knows why he did it. To leave some sort of trace of them, or perhaps to just convince himself that this is real. That everything between the two of them is really happening. Sometimes ‘Star finds himself doing the same thing. While he was up for hours before Julio this morning, he sat in their bed and just memorized his breathing patterns, the way his eyes twitch when he’s dreaming. All the scars on his body, the ones left by him and the rest that others have left. ‘Star wants it seared into his memory so that he will never forget. 

“‘S okay, dude,” Julio soothes him, kissing his temple and squeezing his shoulder again. “If that happened to me, I wouldn’t wanna tell anyone about it either.” He wouldn’t even want to think about it. He suspects ‘Star didn’t, either. “And Domino didn’t ruin our morning.” He cracks a smile, and it’s just as grim as his voice was before when he attempted that joke. “Now, being walked in on by a bunch of ax-crazy mutant assassins who actually did want to kill us? _That_ would’ve ruined our morning.” The smile isn’t as catching as he hoped. 

He sighs, and drops his arm to ‘Star’s waist. Last night they’d held hands on the walk from the doorway to the car and ‘Star didn’t seem to want to let go of him; this time, Julio won’t need to be asked. “I think my apartment is safe,” he says, but his voice is still uneasy. “We’ve been good so far, and I’m not exactly lazy about security. But…” he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back, and he looks out over the moat, focusing on nothing in particular as he’s thinking. “I want to step it up anyway. I need… cameras for the hall and the parking lot. Microphones, maybe. Motion sensors.” He’s listing things off as they come to mind, and saying it out loud makes him feel marginally better -- he’s got this. This is his element. “I won’t bore you with the details until I’m setting it up, but I think I’ve got a plan.” He exhales, and stands up a little straighter, then finally turns to look at ‘Star. 

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” he says. It’s a strong compulsion, and even if he doesn’t know why he’s feeling it, he thinks he’d rather follow it anyway. “We could stay out here until it starts to rain. Just -- y’know, sit here for a while. Do you know how to skip rocks on a lake?”

"No." 'Star says a little sadly, as if he's slowly starting to realize that there are so, so many things that he's missed or that maybe he should have learned to do before. "But perhaps you could teach me." It's not a question but at this point he's not sure that he really needs to pose it as one. "Like you've taught me about other things." Like Julio has taught him about music and taking the time to enjoy some of the more simple things in life. "We could skip these rocks of yours and then..." 'Star stops himself for a moment, weighing his next words, the validity of what he's going to suggest. "I would really like to destroy something." It helps him feel in control. It's something that he is good at. 

“Something or someone?” Julio asks, letting his arm slip from ‘Star’s waist and taking his hand instead, leading him toward the shore of the moat. He lets go just for long enough to tug off his boots and his socks and roll up the cuffs of his jeans. “‘Cause if it’s the latter, I can probably call Madrox and see if he’s got anything we could do. If it’s the former… there’s a couple blocks of abandoned buildings across the moat, a few miles away. We could drive out. It’s not a bad idea.” Actually, it sounds perfect. 

Julio crouches down at the bank of the moat, and squeezes ‘Star’s hand one final time before letting it slip, and searching for appropriate stones. He pushes them aside without even touching them, nudging away round pebbles and jagged rocks with low waves of power until he finds what he wants; a handful of flat, circular stones, worn away to just the perfect shape by the current. He never thinks about that for too long. It always kind of messes with him. 

“Watch me,” he says, selecting one and drawing his arm back to throw it. He flicks his wrist when he does, and the stone skips on the surface, bouncing five times before sinking. 

“Both.” ‘Star says, looking as the rock sinks and then he flicks his eyes back to Julio. “I want to simply -- be in control of something.” It’s not usually this way and ‘Star doesn’t always need that control but when it comes to things like this, things from his past, things he cannot change... it’s like he needs to reassess everything and more forward from there. Destroying something and seeing someone else be so helpless might put him at ease. He is just hoping that it won’t do the opposite for some reason. 

‘Star finally steps forward, taking a rock from Julio’s hand before mirroring the other man's movements perfectly. The rock only skips twice before it sinks into the water. That… was strangely satisfying. 

“Good,” Julio says, and this time, his smile is genuine. “You got the technique right. Now you’ve just gotta practice.” There’s some things about skipping stones that you can’t just learn from watching. You’ve got to pick them up from experience, weigh everything in your own hands and find out how you need to move, personally, to strike the balance between knowing how and _feeling_ how, and… hell, he’s not really thinking about rocks anymore, is he? 

“I’m gonna call Madrox,” he says, standing. He stretches his arms up, and stands on one leg at a time as he flexes his ankles and calves; he kinda hates crouching like that. There’s something innately weird about ditching a pair of boots worth half his paycheck at the shore just to stand in some rocks and wet dirt, but he’s feeling it. Whatever _it_ is. Maybe it’s something to do with his powers. “Keep throwing them. I won’t be a minute.” And he makes his way back up the shore, pulling out his phone on the way.

‘Star wants to glance back at Julio, but he doesn’t. There is something jarring about letting him out of his sight and he’s uncertain if that is because of last night or if it’s something else entirely. He wonders for a moment if he might turn back around and that Julio might be gone, slipped away, simply a figment of his imagination.

‘Star never did dream while he was in stasis, but there is some innate fear, some gnawing thing inside of him that wonders if he might be now. He hadn’t thought about it until Domino brought it back up. He hadn’t thought about it all for such a long time. 

‘Star takes a deep breath and picks up another rock, focusing on the water and then mapping out a path across it. He lets that breath out after he pulls back his arm and throws, the rock skipping across a good ten times before finally sinking. If he just focuses, maybe everything will stay clear in his mind. If he takes all these new feeling one step at a time perhaps he won’t feel so lost. 

“Jamie?”

“ _Si?_ ”

“Do not even,” Julio deadpans. He and Jamie Madrox have a good working relationship, and he’s definitely the best employer Julio has ever dealt with (though he’s not exactly up against much), but he gets on Julio’s nerves without even trying. That said, Julio’s pretty sure he _is_ trying. “Remember that favor you owe me for that… thing I did?”

“The blowjob?”

Julio could throw his phone into the river. He could throw his phone into the river right now and it could sink to the bottom with ‘Star’s and they could both go and get new ones together and he could _not_ enter Jamie’s number into whatever he gets and he’d never have to go through this again. He takes a very deep breath, and exhales very slowly, and presses the phone to his ear again. 

“Not the blowjob,” he says, with forced calm and civility. “The --” he lowers his voice, and hisses the rest of the sentence. “The recon job on Utopia.” Can he tell ‘Star that? Probably, but he’d rather do it upfront, instead of letting him overhear it. “I’m calling it in. I need you to set me up with another job. Today. Something quick and dirty, if you can find it. Do not make a joke about that.” On the other end of the line, he hears Jamie snicker.

'Star is still skipping rocks, oblivious to the conversation happening behind him. He holds another in his hand, running his thumb over the smooth curve before tossing it and skipping it perfectly again. There is certainly a technique to this, something that one can only grasp once they have truly thought about everything involved. 

'Star is focusing on the other side of the moat. On what lies across the river. What would happen if they just left? If they ran from this city and everything in it? They have almost no ties, it would be easy. Who could they be outside of this place? Who could they be in another world? They could run, but to run would be cowardly, and 'Star is anything but a coward. 

Julio returns to his side in silence, or what passes for it. ‘Star, with his heightened senses, is nearly impossible to sneak up on, so Julio knows that he doesn’t have to announce himself. He sits on the shore beside him with his legs out in front of him, feet only just touching the edge of the water, and watches as he skips a stone that bounces so far he can’t even tell where it stopped. 

“ _Dude_ ,” he says, with a low, appreciative whistle. He’s not surprised in the slightest, but he can’t help but be impressed. “I got us a job,” he says, after watching ‘Star for a little longer. “Anti-mutant hate group. Think they were called The Right? They’re holed up in an old school building out by the slums.” All he and ‘Star have to do is go in and clear the place out -- permanently. It’s almost a perfect job, save for the fact that it’s probably going to be too easy. “You up for that?”

"And here I was only thinking we might have one person to kill." 'Star turns back to Julio and that smile is back on his face, the one that's disturbingly calm and calmly disturbing if you stare too long. It's not a real smile, but its similarity to one makes it strange. It's his excitement for a kill manifested physically. 

"I am ready if you are." He looks back to the water and then takes Julio's hand in his. It's time to get back to what they are both good at, and snuff out the rest of his concerns for just a small while. This will be refreshing.


	9. Alien Atsume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another mission gone bad, Julio and 'Star indulge in some well-needed downtime.

The Right building doesn't stand out against the others in the city slums. Its windows are just as broken and its doors are just as boarded up and it has the same waterlogged, slightly rotting appearance to it as the houses around it. Indoors it's worse, pitch black in the hallways save for a few flickering bar lights on the ceiling and a couple exit signs glowing red near the doorway. It's quiet, mostly, undercut by the constant surging hum of hidden machinery. 

Julio cracks a joke comparing it to a horror movie they watched a week or so ago, and ‘Star fixes him with the most withering look he’s ever encountered. Julio can’t blame him. Something about this just makes him uneasy.

"Where are they?" 'Star thinks that is probably the worst thing, the silence. He doesn't like having the element of surprise taken away. As an assassin, that is half of being able to complete his mission. "Your Madrox wouldn't lead you into a trap, would he?" If 'Star wasn't unsure before he's certainly unsure now. If having a sound strategy fails, he supposes Julio could always bring this place crumbling down, but he’s still uneasy. "Because I do not like this." He'd rather have hordes of enemies staring them down. He'd rather be fighting against impossible odds. Anything but this silence. 

“I don’t like it either, dude,” Julio sympathizes. “Jamie wouldn’t set us up, though. He’s got no reason to want to be rid of me.” He knows he’s an asset (though not in the same way ‘Star apparently is to Scott Summers, and why can’t he stop thinking about that?), and it’s not as though he’s done anything to threaten Jamie’s position. They’re friends, or at least Julio thinks so. He can hardly call them acquaintances after he’s had the other man’s cock in his mouth, can he? He elects not to mention this to ‘Star. 

“I think that hum is comin’ from the basement,” he says, brows furrowed in discomfort. This really is like a horror movie. “Man, I can’t hear shit apart from that hum. Get your swords out. They’re just guys -- humans -- but…” he trails off, falling silent as they make their way down the hall to the stairwell. This place is a hole. Nobody in their right mind would want to spend their time here, and in his experience, people who aren’t in their right minds are much more dangerous to fight than people who are. He’s fought guys on bad MGH before, and men driven mad in the name of science, and people who just plain _lost it_ , and he’s rarely scared, but… it’s something about the way that they just keep coming at you, regardless of what condition they’re in. Julio shudders. “Just be ready. Don’t hesitate if someone comes at you.” He certainly won’t.

“When have I ever?” ‘Star says and steels his nerves, unsheathing his swords in one smooth motion. He takes a deep breath before he spots a set of double doors. “I am going in. Follow me if you will.” He needs to get this started, needs to break the silence and announce their presence. 

‘Star doesn’t waste anymore time and he’s kicking in those doors without giving Julio the chance to protest. “Come out, cowards!” His voice echoes through the rotting building but just like in the hallway, this room is empty. Or one might the same of the entire building if they didn’t have enhanced hearing. ‘Star however can hear the squeak of a chair against the floor from another room over. Someone is skulking around here and he’s not entirely thrilled that they haven’t shown themselves yet. 

Julio sees him glance in the direction of the other room, and looks around for a door, finding one on the opposing wall. Upon closer inspection, once he’s near enough to see it in the dark, it’s slightly ajar. He nudges it open with a weak burst of power, barely enough to rattle the lock, and hangs back for a moment after, gesturing for ‘Star to wait. The doorway remains empty, and when Julio nods, ‘Star walks through it first. 

They find themselves in a cramped corridor, cracked tiles on the ceiling and walls, and hooks along one side where Julio can only assume... _something_ was hanging. Fire extinguishers, or medical equipment, or a lot of coats, or… Julio can’t think. 

The hum is getting louder, but the first thing he notices was the drop in temperature; it’s _freezing_ in here. He remembers watching a tacky History Channel documentary about paranormal investigators with ‘Star where the presenter talked about cold spots, tears in the veil between life and death with the frigid, stale air of the grave seeping through them. And -- does it smell here, too, or is he imagining it? God, he hopes he’s imagining it. 

“Keep to the left,” he says, voice lower than a whisper. “Stay away from all that shit on the wall and get on the opposite side to that door at the end. I’m gonna blast it open once we’re there, so hang back.” 

'Star gives Julio a look before he grabs his arm, yanking him behind him before throwing a knife and nailing a rat that happened to be scurrying against the far corner of the room to the wall. Unfortunate, but he's almost uncharacteristically on edge and that unsettles him more than the cold spots in the room and the terrible smell that seems to be leaking out of the walls. 'Star has never had to worry about letting his emotions get the better of him but now that might be a very real concern. 

"We came here to slay the Right. There is no one here and if they are they are going to be more trouble than they are worth." He tenses and he grabs Julio's arm a little tighter, still brandishing one sword. Something needs to move and something has got to give. 

“But there is someone here,” Julio points out under his breath. “You heard someone over behind that door. I saw you look.” He eases his arm out of ‘Star’s grip, only to hold his hand instead, squeezing it in the hope that it might ground him, bring him back to earth and to the reality of the situation. “Listen, it’s creepy in here, but it’s probably just nothing. Chances are this is just a really small group, and they’re all somewhere in the basement, doing… something.” 

He knows that there must be a basement; he can feel it, or rather the absence of dirt where it should be, just below them. Not for the first time, he finds himself wishing that sense of his extended further, far enough that he might see how many people were standing on the ground, or even get a sense of what was in the room. 

Maybe he could work on that, at any other time. Now, though, he finds himself hesitant to even try. Does he really want to know what’s down there? “This is stupid,” he hisses, more to himself than to ‘Star. “Let’s just go. Whatever’s down there _dies,_ and then we can get out of here and -- I dunno -- laugh about how freaked out we were over nothing. Got it?”

This was supposed to be about exerting and reinforcing control, not losing more of it. "Every single one of them dies," 'Star repeats and takes his hand from Julio's, drawing his other sword. The best way to prevent either of them from ending up dead is to swallow down these feelings and make sure that whatever walks through these doors, if anything, dies a bloody death. 

"Stay. And come only on my signal," 'Star says gruffly, walking ahead and past the hooks to another set of doors. There is certainly something past there, someone is creeping around just on the other side. He's not shy in his want to kick them down but as soon as he does something falls through at them from the other side, something that is more heaving bloody ball of flesh than human. 

Even with his chest tightening in fear and his veins running icy Julio responds in a heartbeat, throwing forward the power that had been building in his hands and blasting the _thing_ back into its original room. It’s more force than he intended, and for one terrifying moment the room itself shakes and lumps of concrete and plaster rain down from the ceiling. 

He pulls ‘Star back by his shoulders, and when the dust settles he can see the fleshy thing through the door, faintly outlined by the red light of an exit sign and thankfully unmoving. 

Julio breathes a shaky sigh of relief. “Sorry, dude,” he whispers, glancing around wide-eyed in case anything else is coming. “I freaked out a little. Kinda lost control. But --” he looks at ‘Star, and it isn’t a comfort to see his fear mirrored on the other man’s face. “-- What _was_ that? I mean, what the _fuck_ \--”

Something hits the wall behind him. Or rather, something hits the wall behind him from the opposite side, impacting with an unpleasantly wet _thump_ and making Julio’s heart skip several beats. This time, at least, he doesn’t lose control of his powers. All he does is swear viciously under his breath and pull ‘Star away from the noise and down the hall as the thing on the other side hits the wall again, as though it’s trying to break through. He’s thinking on his feet, but facing whatever’s in the other room head-on seems vastly preferable than waiting for whatever is there to come and meet them first. 

“C’mon,” he hisses, grabbing ‘Star by the wrist and pulling him toward the doorway. They step over the thing on the ground (and being close to it gives him no further clues as to what it is; it may have been human once but its features are indistinguishable, and after the events of the previous night Julio is strangely grateful for that) and cross the room quickly, leaving footprints in the layer of dust and plaster from the ceiling. 

They reach another hallway, narrower and well-lit in the distant end. ‘Star pushes past him, obviously intending to put himself and his healing factor between Julio and whatever is at the end of the hall. Julio is just about to follow him when he hears wet breathing from behind him, and feels hot breath on the back of his neck. “‘Star --”

"Julio!" When 'Star yells, it's loud and right in his ear, his reflexes lightning quick enough to turn on his heel and shove Julio away from the thing behind him. It's only after he's gotten him away from the danger that 'Star even really sees what it is. 

It's human and at some point it probably looked more so, but something transformed it into what he's looking at right now. It's hunched over, face torn and bloodied. The lab coat it wears is stained and shabby but at least that seems to indicate that perhaps whatever happened to make it this way was an accident or perhaps self inflicted. 'Star doesn't know if he could deal with cutting down things that had clearly been experimented on, at least not so soon after what happened last night. 

"Do not leave my side." He finally manages to say to Julio, leveling his sword at the monster before making quick work of severing the head from the body. _Zombies,_ his mind provides, but isn't that just the silliest thought? 

“I won’t,” Julio reassures him immediately, before glancing at the body of the thing on the ground. “What --” he starts, then stops himself, shaking his head as though trying to snap himself out of a trance. He breathes deep and immediately regrets it. The smell is awful, medical antiseptic with the tang of iron barely hidden beneath it. 

“Lab coat’s got a name on it,” he says, covering his mouth and nose with one hand as he inspects the coat with the other. “Green. That’s helpful.” He stands, and wipes his hand off on his jeans. “I’d guess bad MGH, but this is a hate group. What would they want with mutant powers?” He’s thinking out loud. “There’s somethin’ else going on here. Something weirder.” Just as he says it, he feels an echo on the ground from the room down the hallway, something bigger and louder than the low-level hum they’ve been hearing since they entered (which, he realizes, has gotten much louder; he mustn’t have noticed because it was gradual). 

“Let’s keep moving,” he says, inclining his head towards the source of the motion. “Something’s happening down there.”

"Something strange is going on? What would lead you to believe that?" 'Star finally says and the words actually have a hint of sarcasm to them. "Its blood smells foul." He pulls a face after he turns away from Julio and back to the creature’s wrecked body. "But it was human once. Perhaps this result was not intended." Or he would certainly hope it wouldn't have been. Unfortunately, the only thing that keeps coming up in 'Star's mind is that a hate group like the Right would most likely use mutants for their experiments instead of each other. Just the thought makes his blood run cold. "Let's continue forward." 'Star gestures in front of Julio with his sword. 

Julio cuts through the silence with a short, strangled laugh of disbelief. “We’re fuckin’ walking into a haunted house full of -- I dunno, _zombies_ \-- and you’re trying to be funny?” He’s never funny. Or he is, but it’s never on purpose. Julio shakes his head. He finds himself thinking that he hasn’t told ‘Star he loves him nearly as much as he wants to, and the thought is much less heartening than it should be. 

He can’t tell him now, of course. Even ‘Star isn’t too oblivious to see that for exactly what it would be -- desperate. Desperate and defeatist, and more of a sign of Julio’s own fear than he’d ever be willing to exhibit. Last night they learned that this kind of sentiment is to be expressed after missions, and never during. ‘Star seemed to appreciate Julio’s pep talk ( _we’re gonna come back from this_ ) even if it was overconfident, and even though neither of them subscribe to blind optimism. They can deal with the aftermath of this later when the danger is gone. And there will be a later. They’ve really only just found each other. It was just a night ago that they finally fell into each other’s arms the way they were supposed to, and Julio is going to fight like hell to not have to let go.

'Star simply gives him a look. "I was -- attempting to modify the mood of the room." That is not what he's meaning to say but he just cannot think of the right turn of phrase, especially not at time like this. 

They continue to walk forward until a dull groaning sound echoes both in their ears and against the walls. 'Star knows they shouldn't stop, especially in a place where the hall narrows so he ignores it the best that he can, focusing instead on the weight of the blade in his hand and the feeling of Julio at his back. It's the best he can do to find comfort. "You will turn this horrific place to rubble once we leave, correct?" 'Star asks, glancing backwards just slightly. 

“Correct,” Julio confirms, with a tight nod. He keeps glancing behind himself, although it’s pointless -- the light is coming from the direction they’re approaching, and the hallway behind them disappears into darkness. If something were to come after them he’d probably hear it before he saw it. The thought makes him shiver. 

“C’mon,” he says, nudging ‘Star as he accidentally steps too close. “Let’s pick up the pace.” There’s no point in being cautious when there are already people ( _things_ ) coming after them. ‘Star’s footsteps are almost noiseless when he begins to hurry and Julio tries to mirror that, almost walking on tip-toe as they approach the end of the hall. 

They stop at the door and ‘Star steps to the side, tilting his head to gesture to Julio that he should kick the door open when he’s ready. It’s how they usually do it; Julio throws the door open and ‘Star is there with his swords ready, standing between him and whatever might be inside. 

Julio braces his hand against the wall and rears back, ready to lift his foot and kick the door just beside the handle. He’s halfway through the motion when a voice interrupts him, echoing through crackling speakers. It chills him to his core.

“It’s unlocked,” the voice says, with an unpleasant note of mirth. “Julio, is that you? My, I’ve missed you.”

"Come out and face your end,” ‘Star sneers. “It will be much easier for you that way." Not that 'Star wants it to be easy. He wants whoever has caused this to die slowly, miserably, screaming in pain the entire time. The voice he heard sounded pure evil, and its words troubled him more than he’s about to let on. How did it know Julio’s name? 

He shifts his sword in his hand before stepping a bit closer to Julio, half as a comfort and half to simply protect him from whatever might emerge from either side of the hall. They must have been watched, and it's agitating to think that he didn't pick up on that. This house is one of horrors and he’s eager to deal with whoever has been running it.

Julio shakes his head quickly, snapping himself out of whatever trance that voice had put him in. The voice froze him in his tracks. His blood ran cold at the sound of it and the way it said his name almost made him feel nauseous. He recognizes it but he can’t recall where from, and that’s the worst part of it. 

He has no idea what awaits them aside from that it scares the shit out of him. _Great._ “Fuck it,” he hisses, and kicks the door down.

The hallways may have been dark but this room is well lit and blindingly white, tiled and curtained from floor to ceiling. It reminds Julio of a hospital. It also reminds Julio why he’s spent the past few years avoiding hospitals entirely. It has that sharp, sterile antiseptic smell, with the same underlying reek of blood and rot that they smelled in the hallway. The tiles are clean, but there are piles of stained green cloths in the corners. Julio looks away from them quickly, before he can start to pick out shapes. There is a metal table in the centre of the room, with wires running from it to a power outlet on the wall. A glass bucket, like an oversized petri dish, sits on the middle of the table, and the bucket contains a human head.

“That’s creepy,” Julio comments, just as the head turns to face him directly, and opens its eyes.

‘Star growls, drawing both of his swords and pushing Julio backwards. Normally he wouldn't be this protective, normally they would never have the chance to protect one another. 'Star isn't letting this chance go. "I will send you to hell where you belong!" He's rushing forward before anything can stop him, drawing his sword back only to be repelled by some sort of force field before being caught by a large metal claw, tugged off to the side and pinned to the wall. "Julio! Go!" It's all he can think to say, swords clattering onto the floor. 

For a second, Julio thinks about running. It's in his nature. He's self-serving and he looks out for himself above everyone else. He's not stupid, and he harbors no illusions about who and what he is. He isn't a hero. He could just go, if he wanted to.

Or maybe not. All of that was true once, but now -- now that 'Star is with him, now that they're partners in every sense of the word... _Ugh._ He's put his heart on the line, and now he's done it once he doesn't seem to be able to stop. He guesses he's risking his life as well now.

He stays. He glances around the room, desperately searching for the foundations of a plan. There's a computer on the opposite side of the room, past the head in the jar. He doesn't want to look at it, but it's laughing and it chills him to the core. 

"Hold on," he calls, gritting his teeth and channeling power into his hands. The room shakes and dust filters down from the ceiling, and he sees the force field falter, shuddering semi-transparently like waves of heat off a road in summer. He doesn't wait to test it. Doing so could give the head and the computer time to counter him. He rushes forward and it feels like walking through water; he pushes through the field with his fists raised in front of him. Something metallic swings at him too fast for him to make out its shape, and he lets his power flare and it shatters, sending fragments of metal across the room. He shields his face and keeps running for the computer.

'Star isn't done putting up a fight and as he sees Julio rush forward he gains a second wind. He grabs the claws pinning him to the wall, squeezing until he hears the metal groan under the pressure of his strength. On a bad day 'Star can lift a ton. On a good day with his adrenaline and rage pumping through him, he can tear through steel like it was nothing. 

"Julio!" he calls out. "Attack the head. Shatter that glass." 'Star rolls forward once he's free, grabbing one sword and throwing it directly as the computer console. It makes impact and sparks a few times before it starts to smoke. 

"Ugh," Julio hisses, catching sparks from the console as he turns on his heel. He breaks into a sprint, seeing movement in his peripherals just a second before another claw swings at him. He ducks under it, skidding along the tiles on his knees, and stumbles to his feet as he approaches the head. Something clicks, and a name appears on his lips without a memory to back it up. 

"Hodge, you motherfucker, you're _dead_."

"Am I?" the head asks, with a mocking smirk. The force field flickers back into life, closer to the pedestal and stronger than before. 

Julio snarls, focusing his power into tight waves and throwing his hands up in front of him. The floor shakes so hard it makes his teeth rattle, despite his near immunity, and he dodges a chunk of plaster as it falls from the ceiling. "You are now," he bites back, and as he takes a step closer, he looses a shockwave that shorts out the force field and shatters the glass. Fluid and cutting shards shoot outward, but he doesn't shield his eyes. He has to look. He needs to know.

On the floor, the head rolls, and grins up at him with bloodied teeth.

"You are now," Julio repeats, and lifts his foot, and brings his boot down on it.

\--

It's melancholy around the apartment for a few days after their mission. Neither 'Star nor Julio will say it out loud, but they still have the MGH facility on their minds, compounded with the horror and the confusion of their latest task. 'Star had only wanted to try and regain control but that failed too. He's not very happy with himself and it shows in his attitude and the fact that he's been waking up earlier and working out harder than normal. 

Currently, he's staring into a bowl of Lucky Charms, poking the tiny little rainbows before giving a frustrated grunt. He's not used to feeling like this, whatever this is. He heard Julio call it pouting before, but he's not sure he wants to apply that label. 

Julio wakes up late but unrested. He’s a late sleeper normally but recently his rest has been plagued with nightmares, visions of dark corridors and gauze-covered eyes and cold, echoing laughter. He’ll move past it. He knows he will. It’s just taking more time than it would normally.

He steps up behind ‘Star without announcing his presence. He knows ‘Star could probably hear his footsteps and his breathing a mile away. He kisses ‘Star’s cheek in greeting, slipping his arms around his shoulders and leaning in close. 

“Not feeling those Lucky Charms, huh?” ‘Star shakes his head morosely, and Julio sighs in sympathy. “I was out shopping last night,” he says, hoping the promise of new toys will help ‘Star lighten up a little. “I got you some stuff. That phone you said you wanted, and a couple other things.” 

"You did not have to buy me anything, Julio." Though the gesture tugs at something inside of him. There is a phrase for it that humans use, but it's eluding him right now. "But thank you." He pokes at another marshmallow before he turns to look at Julio properly. 

"I do not remember you going to the store. Was I out?" He did take a trip out into the rain last night to buy more milk from the convenience store across the street and from there he ended up staring at all the chips and snack cakes for an hour or so before deciding none of them would make him feel better. 

“No, _querido_ , you were asleep.” Julio finds he sounds (and feels) slightly apologetic. He didn’t want to leave ‘Star alone even if he was just sleeping, but waking him seemed worse. “Most places are open late on a Friday. I woulda brought you with me, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” That, and he just couldn’t sleep and needed something to do. It’s a little of both. 

“Do you wanna watch TV for a while?” He nudges ‘Star’s shoulder. “Go on, dude. I’ll clean up the Lucky Charms for you.” Where ‘Star is lethargic and despondent, Julio is just restless, and even in this they seem to complement each other. “I’ll come sit with you when I’m done, don’t worry.”

'Star looks concernedly at the bowl of cereal before poking one of the soggy marshmallows and resigning himself to doing what Julio asked of him. He sucks the sugary sweetness off his fingertip before walking over to the couch and lazily flopping down. Since he's been with Julio, watching TV alone is sort of boring. As with most things, it's just better when he can share it with the other man. He pats around for the remote and when he flips on the TV the first thing that's on is cartoons. He can deal with watching a cartoon cat chase a cartoon bird, or at least he can zone out to it. 

Julio pours the cereal down the sink and washes out the bowl. The marshmallows catch in the drain. He tells himself he’ll deal with them later. He retreats to the bedroom (and even after all this time, it still makes him smile just slightly to think that it’s _their_ bedroom) and gathers everything he bought: the box with the phone in it, and a pink paper bag containing everything else. He presents them both to ‘Star before settling on the couch beside him, pulling his feet up off the carpet and curling up. 

'Star pulls his attention away from the cartoon playing on the TV to Julio who is far more interesting at the moment and most other times as well. "You bought more than two things?" He asks even though it's obvious and squints a little suspiciously because he doesn't quite understand why. Nobody’s ever bought him anything before, not anything that wasn't out of necessity. Are these things Julio bought necessary? He stops himself from reaching in the bag to pull out the contents. It's a surprise, though he's never been fond of those either. 

“Open it,” Julio encourages him, pressing the pink paper bag into his hands. “Go on. It’s yours.”

Julio has bought him a collar, pale pink and studded with tiny sparkling stones, with a bell on the front and a heart-shaped ring to clip a leash to. There's also what appears to be a tail, which is fluffy and almost the same shade of orange as 'Star's hair. It has a pink bow around it, and the end is --

"I hope this isn't weird," Julio says, anxiously fidgeting with the hem of his own shirt. "It's probably weird. I just -- I dunno. It was a thought. I can take it back if you don't want it." He can't, and a large part of his paycheck from the last mission is missing for this, but 'Star doesn't need to know that.

"So this is for..." 'Star starts but then he stops himself as he tries to work it out. He's not a stupid man by any means, but some things just take an extra moment to understand, especially when it comes to Earth items and scenarios that he's mostly unfamiliar with. He thinks he understands this though. He’s heard Julio allude to things like this when he’s been in one of his moods, when he’s gone from headstrong to submissive under Julio’s guidance. He feels himself almost falling into that mood now just looking at the items. "For me to wear when we have sex," 'Star finally finishes that sentence but he feels like that’s not quite right. "For me to wear when I'm in the mood." He's still staring at that shiny pink collar. 

Julio nods. "Both. Or either. Whatever you want." He thought he'd gotten better at reading 'Star but now it doesn't seem like that at all. Maybe with every bit of his humanity he regains, he loses a little of his craftiness. Oddly enough, he doesn't really mind. "Dude, um," he worries his lip, "honestly, I can't tell if you're into this or if you're just freaked out by it. You're fucking inscrutable. I'm sorry." 'Star is still staring at the collar. "Uh. So. Thoughts?"

'Star looks at Julio once before looking back at the collar and then tilting his head to the side just slightly. "I want you to put the collar on me. We can save the other for later." He understands the mechanics of the plug but he supposes he will just have to be in the mood to really, truly, appreciate it. "I really love them both." His blue eyes are honest when he brings them back up to look at Julio's.

Julio can't help but sigh in relief. "Good, 'cause I totally lied about being able to take those back." His expression softens. "Do you want it on now?" 

Instead of replying in words, 'Star hands it to him quietly and bows his head. Julio slips it around his neck and buckles it just tight enough to fit and still be comfortable. The goal isn't to hurt him or irritate him or choke him. It's really just to let him feel owned, and -- if Julio has calculated this right -- to make him feel treasured. 

'Star sits back and Julio inspects him. "Suits you," he says a little too simply, but the tone of his voice and the sudden darkness in his eyes should say enough. He flicks the bell, and it jingles.

The sound is pleasant and 'Star actually smiles at that, more of a quirk of lips than anything else but it's still there none the less. "Will you show me how to use the new phone?" He's relatively sure that he can do it himself, but he wants Julio to help him with it and to make sure that he's doing it right. Also, something about the collar already makes him more eager to ask for assistance even when he might not need it. 

"Course," Julio says, picking up the box and flipping it over to open it. "I got the white one, just like you asked." 'Star, apparently, has a favourite colour. Julio finds himself inexplicably endeared by this. He wonders if he could talk 'Star into getting a new uniform, something he could design on his own. "It's bare bones right now, but I was thinkin' I might tweak it a little. How would you feel about an app for missions? I've been working on one for me, but since we're both on different sides of the Scott-Nathan line..."

"I am fairly certain that I don't have an allegiance any longer." After Domino's warning and Julio throwing his phone away ‘Star hasn’t heard from Scott Summers at all and that's the way he'd like to keep it. "My only loyalty now lies with you, Julio. Whatever your mission is, it is mine as well." He had meant to say that a few days ago, but he's been in a perpetual haze that's only now starting to clear. He hasn't been on a mission since they returned from disposing of the Right. 

"... So I'm guessing that's a no," Julio surmises, with a wry smile. He takes the phone from the box and holds down the button on the side to turn it on, sinking back into the couch with a deep sigh. "You know, I've been thinkin' about that. Since the facility, I mean. I just --" he pauses mid sentence and pats his knee. "Rest your head on my lap if you want to, babe, you don't need to ask -- I just wondered whether we might both need a change of pace." It's not like he hasn't thought about it beyond that, but he feels like even breathing a word about leaving the city might doom their plans before they even make them. "After we deal with Raven Darkhölme, obviously." Assuming they survive.

'Star takes the invitation and moves to put his head right where Julio patted, stretching out just a little as he does. "I want to slaughter everyone involved. Then we can make a clean break." If that is indeed what Julio meant. 'Star has no attachment, maybe to Domino in some regard, but the only person he wants to make sure remains with him is the one who he's currently laying his head on. The man he's become more than just attracted and fascinated with. Everything else can burn. 

Julio messes with the phone with one hand and starts petting 'Star's hair with the other. "We'll do what we can," he says, "but if it turns out we're in too deep, I think we should just run." He meets 'Star's look of distaste with a defiant one of his own. "I know, I know. You don't run. You're a warrior. But listen... the thing at the Right facility had me thinking -- I don't wanna lose you, 'Star. Not for honor. Not for anything."

'Star is still wrinkling his nose a little, the idea of running away digging deep at him but after Julio's explanation and his recent bubbling up of emotions he supposes can understand where he's coming from. 

At least partially. "On my home planet," he starts off slowly, "they believe that once a warrior dies honorably in battle that their soul never really vanishes. That it transcends, has the ability to become part of another warrior's soul. If I were to die in battle -- I would never truly be lost to you, Julio. I would become part of you." 

Not for the first time since he met 'Star, Julio finds himself speechless. He's not sure how long he spends searching for the words, but when they come they're quiet, terrified and reverent all at once. "How does it work?" he asks. "'Cause I get the feeling you're not just talking about this in a metaphorical sense. This is -- this is science to you, right? This is real." Julio doesn't believe in souls, at least in the human sense... but then 'Star isn't human, is he?

"It's a transference of energy. You'd take my soul into yours and we would become something brand new." 'Star's never seen it happen and for all he knows it's a foolish tale Arize told the Cadre to give them confidence in battle, but something makes him feel like if it were true, if it's something that could happen that it would between he and Julio. "If it is hard for the human mind to comprehend, I apologize." 

Julio shakes his head. "No, it's..." He trails off, glancing at the TV and letting his eyes glaze over for a moment. "Like, _with our powers combined,_ sorta. Something bigger and better than the both of us." He jokes, but he's really still trying to wrap his head around it. "I mean, sure, dude. I'd agree to it in a heartbeat, but..." He worries his lip, and 'Star actually reaches up to stop him. "I like you the way you are," Julio finishes, "and I wouldn't wanna change that."

"And I enjoy you the way you are. So do not die in battle," 'Star says very seriously, tracing fingertips up Julio's jaw before they fall away and he's curling up closer to the other man. He knows it's nothing either of them can promise and that if death takes one of them it might just take both of them, but they can at least talk about it and 'Star can turn away from some of his more… reckless battle strategies. 

"I won't," Julio says, and if 'Star recognizes that for the false promise it is, he doesn't say anything of it. He lifts 'Star up just enough to shift beneath him, stretching his legs out across the couch and letting 'Star lay between them. 'Star rests his head on Julio's thighs, and Julio resumes petting him. The diamonds on his collar shine when he moves, glinting with the rise and fall of his chest and the motion of his throat. "It really does suit you," Julio murmurs, running his fingertips over its outline.

"I am glad you purchased it for me." Julio might have already known that this would happen, but the collar makes 'Star feel content. Protected, almost. With it on he knows that control isn't important, that Julio is all the control he needs. He trusts him implicitly with that, with everything. 'Star takes a moment to shift and then groan just slightly. "Maybe -- you could put the tail inside of me as well?"

"Of course," Julio says smoothly, pressing a kiss to the top of 'Star's head before lifting him up again and shuffling off the couch. What he feels isn't so much a warm surge of affection as a tidal wave of it that crashes over him and pulls him under. He's thought a lot before about how quickly 'Star falls into these moods but he never accounted for his own side of it. All it took was seeing 'Star frown just a little and suddenly all Julio wanted was to make him smile again. 

He's awful at it, of course. The men in his family showed affection by buying expensive gifts for their wives and girlfriends, and Julio always looked down on them for it, but he's gone and done exactly the same thing. 'Star has no concept of money. He doesn't understand what this must have cost, or what the shiny rocks mean.It doesn't matter. Julio realizes his actions will be the true indicator of his affection for 'Star. 

He steps back into the bedroom. They keep all their stuff on the bedside table, save for Julio's old toys, which are safely stowed in the second drawer. He gathers what he needs and returns to 'Star. 

"You can keep laying down, if you want," he says. "Or you could sit over my knee." Like they did when Julio spanked him, during their first time. Julio can't imagine doing that now. "Whatever's comfiest, _mi tesoro._ "

'Star shivers at the inflection on those words and the thought of the toy going into him. He's been stretched by Julio before, but nothing quite like this. It's going to all be new and it makes his stomach clench tight with excitement. He's happy where he is and he scoots just a little closer into Julio's lap so his ass is a little closer and he's spread just right. 

"This is comfortable." 'Star nuzzles into Julio's thighs again, shutting his eyes in anticipation of the slick feel and then the tight pressure that’s sure to come afterward.

Julio strokes 'Star's hair again before trailing his fingers down his back and stopping at his ass. He reaches for the lube with his other hand, uncaps it, and slicks his fingers. Usually he slicks 'Star until he's practically dripping ('Star is tense at the best of times, and he doesn't relax with the ease or the eagerness that Julio does), but this time he's more careful. He doesn't want this to hurt, but he also doesn't want the plug to slip out as soon as he pushes it in. 

"Tell me when you think you're ready," he implores 'Star as he teases him open. The toy isn't big. If Julio assumes correctly, 'Star should be able to wear it for as long as he likes, and almost (just almost) forget that it's there.

'Star pants against Julio's leg when he feels those fingers, calloused and warm and familiar in all the best ways. He arches his back up and presses his lips to his thigh and knows that if he anticipates this anymore that it's going to be something that he doesn't intend. 'Star is half hard, but he can fight the urge. This collar that Julio bought him and the toy are about much more than pleasure and sex, it's about comfort and safety and feeling so warm inside that he could melt. "I am ready." His eyes flutter open and he looks right up at Julio. 

"Okay," Julio says softly, patting one cheek before he picks up the tail and slowly, carefully eases it in. 'Star wasn't lying about being ready. It fits perfectly and it looks just perfect as well, nestled between his cheeks as though it belongs there. Maybe it does. 'Star almost seems to make more sense with a tail and a collar than he does as a human. 

Julio wipes his fingers on the arm of the couch, and leans over to kiss the small of 'Star's back. "Is that good?" he asks. "It looks good."

'Star feels filled, but pleasantly so, nothing pushing him to the edge and making him feel like he needs more or he might just burst. If he could purr, he would. "It feels good." He shifts and kisses a trail up Julio's chest before he turns and curls up on the couch with his feet tucked and his head still on the other man’s lap. "It's perfect,” he murmurs out before shutting his eyes. He's comfortable for the first time in days and he's reassured with Julio's presence at his side. 

"You're perfect," Julio tells him, reinforcing the point with a kiss to 'Star's hair. He sinks further into the couch cushions, zoning out to the cartoons on TV as he absent-mindedly pets 'Star's ass, tail and all. He smiles faintly. He's glad his plan was a success. 'Star seems genuinely content for once, and besides, Julio has always wanted a cat.

\--

It's two weeks before things get back to normal. Two weeks before 'Star can actually use his phone properly and stops texting Julio in all caps. Two weeks and they’re back at what they do best, which is work missions. Or at least that used to be what they do best. What they seem to be best at lately is snuggling on the couch and being domestic. Well… 'Star supposes they can be good at both. 

"I think it's ruined,” he hisses out as he leans back against the wall of the bathroom, fingertips stained red and smearing against white tile. His uniform is shredded and his skin is torn from being tossed up through a skylight. He kept going until gravity caught up with him and he fell back down into the glass. The mission was a success however and they are one step closer to finding Raven Darkholme. ‘Star will heal, but his clothing will not. 

Julio quirks an eyebrow. "I think you might be right," he deadpans. "Well spotted." He might be a little bit closer to human now, but no-one ever said he had to be _nice._ He puts his hands on his hips. "C'mon, dude, get into the shower. Stop bleeding everywhere." He's thanking his lucky stars (but not his unlucky 'Star) that they took the bike to this particular mission and not Luz. "I'll hose you down and cut you out of what's left of that uniform, and then I'm gonna call my stylist." He uses that term very loosely. He mostly just argues with her until she relents and gives him free reign of the uniform fabricator. _Still._

'Star gives him a rather put out look before pushing off the wall and hissing as he rolls up one of the sleeves and then starts to tear it off with his hand that's not currently holding pressure to shredded skin so it can stitch itself back together. "Wait until," he spits bloody fabric onto the floor, "I start to heal before to force me into the shower." It should only take a few more minutes and the glass should purge itself from the wounds as well. 

"Wait until you stop _bleeding to death_ before you start pulling off the only thing that's keeping you in one piece," Julio counters. It's been months and 'Star's healing factor still freaks Julio out -- or rather, the frequency with which he gets grievously injured freaks Julio out, and no amount of cool recovery powers will ever stop that twinge in his gut when he sees 'Star like this. It's just a shame that he expresses his concern by bitching at him. "At least hold still and let me pull the glass out," he says, with a sigh. 

"Be my guest, Julio. And stop being so dramatic. I am not going to exsanguinate simply from a few cuts." 'Star did tell himself that he was going to rethink some of his more drastic battle tactics, but while he was in pursuit of their target he simply got carried away. Also, it was not his fault that their target also used his own body mass against him which leads him to another thoughts. "You do know my bones are hollow, do you not?" 

"I figured something was up with that," Julio says, with a curious glance. "Didn't wanna ask what, though. It coulda been a lot of things -- you know I'm heavier than normal 'cause gravity pulls me down to compensate for my powers, right? I thought it might have been the opposite with you for a while." He picks a particularly nasty piece of glass out of 'Star's shoulderblade, kissing the wound as it heals itself and wiping the blood off his mouth with his sleeve. "Now we're talking about it, though... what's the deal with your eye?"

"The deal? You mean to ask me why it is white or are you asking about my marking?" 'Star knows Julio is probably asking about both and though it might have been an invasive question before, he does figure it's about time he knew. 

"The marking has been with me since birth as far as I know. They use it as a sigil on my planet. Marking worthy warriors, slaves who have the potential to be more. It's a symbol that the Spineless Ones fear." 'Star cringes a bit as he feels his bigger wounds starting to close. "As for the discoloration... I can see in the dark, my power illuminates everything as if I were standing in the sun." He sees others things too, ghostly and sometimes monstrous things, but he has never told anyone that. It's best that he doesn't. 

Julio squints at him. “Huh,” he hums, crossing his arms for just a moment to make a point before returning to his task. He picks a series of smaller glass fragments out of ‘Star’s ribs before he speaks again. 

“I knew you were good in the dark, but I always thought it was just ‘cause your other senses are so sharp. Thought maybe you were hearing my heartbeat or smelling me or something.” And isn’t it telling that the first example that springs to mind is of them in the bedroom, and not anything related to a mission? “What are Spineless Ones?”

"I can hear your heartbeat but I cannot smell you outside of when you are standing this close to me." He wasn't built for it, he's not a tracker. 'Star finally moves his hand when the torn skin on his side just above his hip starts to knit itself back together. "Spineless Ones are horrifying creatures and the ruling species on my planet. They order slaves be constructed for their amusement." And constructed is literal. Every slave on Mojoworld was created on the template of the Spineless Ones nightmares. "Humans or human looking creatures are monstrous to them. We were created to be distinct, to look like something out of myth. I am not the only one on my world who looks human." Most of the slaves do. 

“Wait,” Julio frowns, taking ‘Star’s recently freed hand and picking shards out from his knuckles, “if you were -- cloned, or whatever…” He hesitates, chewing his lip. He’s almost about to stop himself from saying it, but ‘Star is looking at him expectantly, and there’s no way he could just shrug this one off. “Why, uh. I mean. What made you think Alison might be your mother? How can you have a mother if you were constructed?” 

He regrets asking as soon as the words leave his lips, but he can’t take it back now. He’s burning with curiosity, and he can only hope that ‘Star doesn’t get angry or clam up or (worse than both those things) start getting sad again. He doesn’t know how far ‘Star’s knowledge of the concept of family extends, at least by Earth standards, and he’d be the first to admit that his own isn’t exactly the greatest example. Wasn’t. _Whatever._

'Star's face does fall into a frown, even if it's just briefly. "I do not know. It was just a feeling that I had. I know I am a construction, but this planet is full of humans that look identical to most of my race. I thought for a moment that perhaps… a similarity might mean that I might have been a human stolen off this planet.” He pauses, then looks down. “It was foolish of me to assume such a thing." He's not sure how that makes him feel, but he knows he fled his world and came to this one following similar reasoning. Because this planet was populated by people that looked like him and he assumed there must be warriors here as well. Thus far, though, Julio is the only one who seems worthy of that title on Earth.

Julio pauses, trying to actually think his words through for once before he replies. “You could ask her,” he suggests quietly, as though he’s still not quite sure of himself. He pulls the last piece of glass from ‘Star’s hand and takes it in both of his own, holding it to his heart. “I know I’m not one to talk, but having a family is… it can be important. Whether it makes you or breaks you.” Sometimes, Julio thinks, it does both. “It’s not foolish. Sure it might seem far-fetched, but those Spineless guys don’t sound very trustworthy. Who’s to say you being -- I dunno, built -- is any more likely than you being born, aside from them? How much of that do you remember, anyway?”

'Star looks to his hand being held by Julio and then up to his eyes. "I may ask, but when the time is right." Which is not now. They have only seen Alison once since they rescued her and that was to make sure that she had gotten somewhere safe. They are probably due another visit but with everything that's been going on... "No matter my relation to Alison, I do believe what you said is true and I do believe that you are the closest thing I have ever had to a family." It's true but 'Star isn't certain that Julio would return the sentiment considering his own thoughts about the subject.

“I know,” Julio says immediately. The night they spent together after the incident at the MGH facility confirmed that. “And -- I feel the same way.” He squeezes ‘Star’s hand, thankful that the wounds on it have knitted back together, before letting go again and running both hands through his hair. “I could tell you all about how families are more than just the people you’re related to, and the best ones are the ones you find on your own,” he says, a slow smile curling the corners of his lips, “but it sounds like you already know that. Maybe better than I do.”

"I do not know about that." 'Star's eyes are still focused on his, trained on the way that Julio is looking at him. He sees him clearing through one eye and the other is the same image in black and white, devoid of any color at all. He's never told him that before, that he can truly see him with one eye but not the other. Does it matter? He supposes that it might. "But I know that I love you." It's the foundation for everything new that's been built inside of him. 

“I love you too, _corazón_ , but I think you’re giving me too much credit,” Julio admits. “I know I talk a lot of shit, ‘Star, but don’t think I’m not still figuring stuff out just like you are. I’m just better at hiding it.” He winks. “Tell me more about your home planet. I know I never asked you properly before, but I’ve always wanted to know. It just -- never seemed like the right time.” But is there ever a right time with them? He’s still picking out glass, and he’s cut his fingertips; ‘Star takes his hand and sucks them into his mouth, and Julio closes his eyes to focus on it. 

"It is not a pleasant place." 'Star brings Julio's fingers out of his mouth, blood still on his lips. "I was an entertainer. I worked as executioner to cancel wayward slaves and prisoners that were held with them. I was unwilling for most of it." He's stating facts because he cares not to remember this with any type of emotion. While on his home planet he felt little else but rage and until recently he felt he was incapable of much else. Julio had helped prove that was wrong. 

Julio’s stomach twists unpleasantly. “By _cancel,_ you mean --?” he breaks off, and ‘Star, mercifully, nods before he has to finish the sentence. 

“‘Star,” he says, and his voice is cold and hollow, and he feels quite the same. “How long have you been on Earth for? ‘Cause…” he falls silent again. He knows ‘Star is only twenty-two, just a year older than Julio himself. If he’s been on Earth for more than a couple of years, then… Julio shakes his head. The implications are unsettling to say the least, even for him.

"Since I was 17." 'Star knows what Julio is thinking. He's not good at reading emotions but this is all as grim as the other man assumes it is. "I told you that it was not pleasant." And maybe that's a understatement. "What else would you like to know?" Probably nothing now. 

Julio raises his hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to tell that ‘Star is looking at him in question. “I don’t mean I’m sorry because I was responsible. I mean -- I feel bad that it happened. I’m not pitying you, I just -- you deserved better.” He inhales slowly and exhales deeply, and lets his hand drop to his side again. “What do I wanna know? Anything you want to tell me, I guess. Anything you need to get off your chest, or anything you think I should know, or… nothing, if you don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” God, but he’s terrible at this. “I think the glass is out. Do you want me to help you wash up?”

"I'd rather not continue to speak about something that clearly makes you uncomfortable." 'Star shakes his head. "But I do think that I am ready to take a shower now." Everything has been as cleaned and healed as it can be and there is still the matter of him getting out of this tangle of clothes. "You still have to help me out of these scraps." And that's about all that's left too. 

"I'm not uncomfortable," Julio says, then elaborates when 'Star glares at him. "I _am,_ but not because you're telling me. I feel for you, 'Star. It hurts to hear this, but I want to be there for you. I totally suck at it, but I want to. It's what you do when you love somebody." He smiles gently, easily, and stands on tiptoe to kiss 'Star on his still-bloodied forehead. "And I'm always up for helping you out of your scraps, _cariño._ You know that." He waggles his eyebrows. "Knife?"

"You know where to find it." Tucked inside his jacket pocket which is in much the same state, torn leather slung across the bathroom sink. There are several knives inside, but the best knife for this job is one that Julio is intimately acquainted with. "Inside pocket." 'Star leans his head in the direction of the jacket just in case he needed guidance. 

Julio inspects the pocket before drawing out the aforementioned knife. He flips it in his hand (he's not unskilled with short blades, and he likes to think he's learned a bit from watching 'Star when 'Star isn't moving too fast to be watched) and holds it carefully, precisely. 

"Hold still," he cautions, before lifting the shred of stitched cloth holding 'Star's uniform to his shoulder and cuts it. From there he moves to the sleeve on the other side, slicing it at the seam instead of pulling it off over his still-healing cuts and grazes. There's something innately meaningful about it, at least for him. He feels like he's playing his part in liberating 'Star from the last remnants of Scott Summers' control -- the vice grip of a dying hand -- but maybe 'Star just sees it for what it is: a logical progression, a necessity in his care and recovery. Perhaps the line between the two is less clear than Julio imagines it to be. 

"So after this," he murmurs, "what are we gonna do about your uniform? Don't say you don't want somethin' different. I know you do."

"I have not had the chance to think about it." He was given a uniform and he wore said uniform without much of a complaint. "From time to time I pick out clothing that I like." And that is evident enough in the things that 'Star wears around the apartment when he is wearing clothes. Brightly colored pants, flamboyant exercise clothing. He picks out what catches his eye and sometimes those things do not make a lot sense. "Something black and white perhaps." Not grey, not something skin tight either. He is finished with that. 'Star flexes his fingers and then his arms when he's finally free of the uniform. The rest of it has to be peeled off of him, but it's much better now even if he is still covered in blood.

Julio kneels down to help him with it. “I knew it,” he says rather smugly. “You’ve been thinking about it. That’s cool, dude. Tell me more.” If there’s one thing he’s learned about ‘Star, it’s that there’s always far more going on underneath than what there seems to be on the surface. 

Julio peels the remnants of the uniform down over ‘Star’s hips and down to his ankles, where he uses the knife again to cut the torn section around where his boots connected to the main garment. It’s always fascinated him, in a sick sort of way. Looking at it now, he still can’t shake the feeling that ‘Star’s uniform was built without giving thought to how he might take it off. Julio generally just messes with zippers in the dark until something works, or until ‘Star gets tired of it and undresses himself. “Can it be something I actually know how to take off you?” Julio asks. He can’t help it.

"It will be far more simple than this," 'Star declares as he looks down at Julio. "Pants that do not connect to anything else." Nothing he has to work to get out of, or that Julio has to spend more than a few minutes stripping off of him. He has given it some thought, but not quite enough to know exactly what he's looking for. "I am going to keep the boots, however." They are certainly one of the best parts and he never really disliked the uniform as a whole, but...

He desperately needs something new and not just because he's destroyed his old uniform. 'Star wants to put as much distance as possible between himself and the thought of ever returning to Scott Summers' X-Men.

“We’ll figure something out,” Julio promises, holding the scraps of the uniform down as ‘Star steps out of the last of it. “Kitty’s great at this kind of stuff.” _Lies._ Kitty is terrible at anything fashion-related but she has a seemingly endless amount of resources and an inexplicably thriving fashion brand, as well as a girlfriend who is incontestably the scariest person Julio has ever met, including ‘Star. Maybe they’ll get along well. “Okay. Shower?”

"Shower," 'Star nods, running a bloodied hand through his hair before kicking off his boots. After a moment of silence between them 'Star leans forward and wraps Julio in a hug. It's not tight and he's really just leaning on the other man, but the sentiment is still there. The stripping off of his uniform felt like shedding skin in a way and he can't help but feel like it's going to take some time to heal all the way.

Julio helps him like he said he would. He runs the water warm, but not as hot as he usually likes it. He knows ‘Star’s wounds must still be stinging, and even if he puts up a brave face it’s probably nothing short of unbearable. Julio wipes the gore and broken skin off with a washcloth, gently patting at cuts and grazes and deeper slices until they’re clean enough to heal. 

When the water runs clear and ‘Star is almost good as new, Julio reaches for the soap (it’s that fancy, cake-smelling stuff ‘Star buys) and squeezes almost a handful of it out. He lathers it on until it falls in clusters of bubbles and foam onto the tiles, suds spiralling down the drain and taking the smell of blood and the exhaustion of the night with them. When he’s done, ‘Star is clean and fully healed and sugary-smelling, and he might not be smiling, but he doesn’t look so worn out either. 

When he opens his eyes finally after Julio turns the shower off, 'Star actually does smile. It's not faked and not a terrifying, bone chilling thing, just a real genuine smile. He's been doing that more lately. "Thank you." It's a murmur and 'Star suddenly feels like he's hit a wall and all he wants to do is sleep. He might be fully healed but the power still takes its toll on him and there must have been more abrasions than he thought.

Julio wraps him in the cleanest and fluffiest towel and guides him back to the bedroom. He flicks the lights on once they’re there, letting ‘Star wander sleepily over to the bed and noting how he doesn’t sit down. For all that ‘Star’s expressions are difficult to read, his actions are plainly obvious. He’s like a child refusing to show that he’s tired at bedtime. Julio smiles to himself. He considers picking out something for ‘Star to change into, just to save him the effort, but he doesn’t. In light of everything, it seems better to leave ‘Star to his own devices, even if that means he’s going to walk out of the bedroom in yoga pants and a leather jacket, or tiny shorts and one of Julio’s v-necked sweaters. Maybe part of loving someone is forgiving them for their stylistic transgressions. 

“I’m gonna call ahead,” Julio informs ‘Star, kissing him on the temple. “I’ll see you in the kitchen when you’re dressed.” With that he leaves, closing the door quietly behind himself. He snags his phone from the arm of the couch on the way to the kitchen and dials Kitty, resting the phone on his shoulder as he opens the fridge. While waiting and listening to the dial tone, he finds a carton of chocolate milk in the door and pours some for ‘Star. ‘Star doesn’t drink coffee, but Julio hopes this is close enough to keep him awake.

'Star picks out a couple of different outfits sleepily before he takes a few minutes to stare at them on the bed. He hasn't been this exhausted in quite a while and the last time this happened was when he wandered to Julio's apartment while attempting not to literally spill his guts on the sidewalk. He cringes at the memory slightly before sliding into a simple pair of black jeans and a soft, red long sleeved shirt. It feels nice to be dressed even though 'Star had brief thoughts of staying in his warm towel and curling up on the bed before he fought them back. He's too tired for doing much of anything else but he does grab a pair of socks as he exits the bedroom. The TV is on and he takes a moment while Julio is still occupied to focus on it. "I am dressed,” he yawns, still staring at the picture. 

Julio crosses the room and presses the glass of chocolate milk into ‘Star’s hands without a word. “I don’t care if you’re busy feeding the fish,” he says, and points to the phone when ‘Star looks at him in question. “You said you wished I’d ask you for advice more often, didn’t you? Well, I’m asking for it now. And _yes_ , it’s urgent. What do you want him to do, go off assassinating people in the buff?” Not that Julio would be adverse to seeing that if the opportunity arose, but the point still stands. “Come _on_ , Kitty. Favor for a friend? You probably owe me something anyway, I just don’t remember it right now.”

Kitty is going to start reconsidering all the friends she's never met through Doug. "Get over here in twenty minutes or he's wearing the first outfit I put together and there are no take backs," she says it rather childishly as she leans against the glass of the fish tank. "Don't say I didn't warn you." 

'Star it still looking at Julio as he takes a sip of chocolate milk. He didn't even realize there was any left and perhaps that would have made the lucky charms a bit more appetizing this morning. 

Julio hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. He regards ‘Star for a moment as the alien slowly makes his way through the chocolate milk. “When you finish that,” he says in the same careful, measured tone he uses for tactics in missions, “drop the glass into the sink and run down to the car, or you’re probably gonna end up in purple spandex and chiffon or something.” He cringes at the thought of it. “Sorry.”

'Star finishes his glass as quick as possible, noting Julio's concern and he's out the door and leaving his boyfriend in his wake. He's good at taking orders, especially when Julio knows exactly what to say to spur him on. Though -- he's not sure purple wouldn't be an entirely awful color. Julio seems to disagree. If they were back to where they were before all of this he might have made them late on purpose, but the uniform is important to both of them and 'Star isn't going to ruin his chance at getting something that is truly and explicable his. 

Julio follows close after him after searching the house at lightning speed for his wallet. When he gets to the parking lot under the building, ‘Star is already waiting by the passenger side door. He presses the remote button to unlock them, and ‘Star gets in, and Julio himself is in his seat and buckled in before ‘Star can even close the door. At least this time he waits for ‘Star to buckle up before he tears out of the parking lot at full speed. 

He guesses ‘Star might be getting used to his admittedly reckless driving, because within a few minutes, the other man has fallen asleep with his head rested against the window. He breathes softly, and when he drools slightly on the door Julio catches it with the corner of his scarf instead of waking him. He doesn’t wake up until they’re turning onto Kitty’s street.


	10. Mirror Images

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys show off their new uniforms, and Julio learns a little more about his partner.

'Star snorts when he wakes up and makes a face when he realizes that there was drool on his chin. "Ugh." He braces his hands on the door and shakes his head before looking over at Julio. "I -- am sorry I fell asleep." Before he might have felt ashamed, but now he knows it's nothing that Julio is going to call him out for. It's not a weakness and it's not something he's afraid of showing anymore. He's come far in that regard. "Where are we? I do not believe you even told me the name of this stylist." 

“Pryde,” Julio says shortly, as they turn the corner. Sure enough, the building they’re approaching has _PRYDE_ in elegant letters on the mailbox at the front of an unusually long driveway. The building is about the size of a small skyscraper, with black plate glass covering the exterior and a halo of winking white lights around the top floor. 

“They work out of their house,” Julio explains, quieter now that Luz’s motor isn’t too loud to talk over. “Or live in their office. Or something. You’ll see when we’re inside.” 

"Why is it so large? It seems unnecessary." Thinking that doesn't stop 'Star from staring, stifling a yawn as he fights the last urges to fall asleep. "You said _they_. Are there two of them?" He hasn't met anyone new since Julio's doctor friend and even then it seemed like Doug was only helping him out of obligation to Julio. This will most likely be the same way even if somewhere deep inside 'Star almost wishes it wasn't. 

“In this case, yes,” Julio says offhandedly, eyes scanning the parking lot for a space. “Not always. Sometimes _they_ is just one person. This is two, though. Kitty and Illyana. They’re a couple. Kitty runs the company, and Illyana…” he frowns. “Actually, I don’t know what Illyana does, apart from being scary as shit. Is that a park?” As it turns out, it is. He parks Luz and steps out, walking around to open the door for ‘Star, who still seems kind of dazed. “Sleepy?” Julio asks, as though it isn’t obvious. 

"Minimally," ‘Star says as he if wasn't just napping and then slightly drooling in the car on the way over here. He wobbles just a little as he gets out of the car, hands on Julio's shoulders as the tingling of nerves coming back to life shakes out through his legs. Of all the side effects of having a healing factor this one has to be the worst. Awakened nerves all sending signals back to the brain at the same time would be overwhelming for anyone that didn't have the super strength to match. 

"You were almost late." Someone says and echoes in the parking garage. When 'Star looks over all he sees is a bright flash of light fading away before two women step from it. One, the girl who spoke, is the shorter of the two with curly brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and clad in a low cut yellow shirt with a black cardigan over it, black jeans hugging her small frame. The other woman looks just about as intimidating as Julio stated, but that doesn't affect 'Star. He admires an intimidating presence. 

Julio fixes the smaller woman with a defiant stare. “Almost,” he says, pocketing his keys and flipping the corner of his scarf back over his shoulder. It’s brighter than his others, a colourful serape pattern that stands out in contrast to the plain black of his v-neck and jeans. He doesn’t remember where he got it from, but it reminds him (in a less unpleasant way than usual) of home. 

He glances over at Illyana. “Hey. Nice to see you again,” he mumbles, not sounding very sincere. She greets him in turn with a curt nod. 

"Yes, _almost_ , because if I was feeling up to it, I'd dissolve my part of the bargain anyway." Kitty looks Julio over before looking at 'Star. "So how did you manage this one? Doesn't seem like the type to be into excessive flirting." She's needling him, but in another regard she's right. 'Star just grunts when he realizes that he's being talked about. "Though I don't this purple is his color. Maybe pink." Kitty finally lets a laugh slip when she sees the look on Julio's face. 

"I do not wish to wear a pink uniform." 'Star fixes her with a glare that's not as scary as he could manage. It's all in his tone anyway. "We came here for your assistance and we can leave if you are not willing to give it." 

Kitty raises an eyebrow at him, and Julio matches it with a pained grimace. Kitty, at least, seems to take the hint.

“‘Yana,” she addresses her partner, sharing what Julio recognizes as a knowing glance with her even if he can’t quite parse the meaning. “Take -- what was your name again?” Julio tells her _Darkstar,_ and she continues. “Take Darkstar to the top floor and show him around the gallery. We’ll be with you in a minute.” Illyana beckons to ‘Star, and after Julio nods to him to show that it’s okay, they leave. 

Kitty crosses her arms. “So,” she says, “what was it? Outer space? Mind control? One of the apparently uncountable hellish planes?”

“Outer space,” Julio says, raising an eyebrow at her flippant tone. “Kinda. He’s -- it’s complicated, but he’s an alien. I dunno if that’s the issue, though.” He sticks his hands in his pockets. The issue, as far as he’s concerned, is Scott Summers. “He’s sorta still working out who he is and what he wants, and part of that is --”

“-- Deciding on his own uniform,” Kitty fills in for him, waving her hand. “I get it. You did exactly the same thing.” 

Julio protests, but Kitty just rolls her eyes at him. “We’ll take the second elevator,” she says, and steps inside the building with Julio following behind.

'Star walks with Illyana silently, eyes scanning everything that they pass by. He's curious about everything, but mostly the woman who's escorting him. She has the presence of a warrior but it's not like him to state his thoughts out loud, so he will not. "Everything is rather elaborate. It reminds me of a building that Julio and I once cleared out. The stench of death is not so thick here, however." He glances over at her but his state doesn't linger. 

She doesn’t smile, but nothing in her expression shows discomfort either. “Most buildings in this district follow the same basic design principles,” she says. Her accent is thick but her voice is deadpan, almost monotonal. “The lower floors follow their trends in decor.” Kitty says it makes the customers feel more comfortable. It doesn’t make sense to Illyana. She is of the opinion that a house should reflect the life and experiences of its owner; their soul, in the metaphorical sense of the word. Kitty calls the things she collects _kitsch_ \-- ceremonial swords and demon skulls and postcards from her brother in Moscow -- but they’re all on the top floor anyway amongst the uniforms. This is the gallery for their irregular clients -- powered humans and X-Men and assassins -- and it’s where they’re headed right now. 

The elevator doors open, and she gestures for ‘Star to step out before she follows. 

'Star does what's asked of him, considering Illyana's presence comforting or at least more so than other humans he's been around aside from Julio. "Do you make things like your partner does?" It's small talk, but he's trying to be as cordial as he can be. He's picked a few things up from Julio and his own humanity is starting to bubble beneath the surface as well. There are rolls of fabric as far as the eye can see as well as dress forms and half constructed outfits. Some of them are… well, they leave something to be desired. 

“No,” she answers. She doesn’t stop walking when ‘Star pauses to look at things; this floor is a maze, a geometric spiral with the best creations further towards the centre. Why are they the best? Because they’re the ones she and Kitty worked on together. “I don’t sew, and if something has frills on it it’s hers. My work is focused around practicality -- adding armor under the cloth. So no, I don’t _make_ things. I strengthen them.” Sometimes she enchants them, but that’s a secret. From the hall behind them she hears the elevator doors open, but she doesn’t stop walking.

"Interesting." 'Star glances over at a work table before picking up his pace to follow behind Illyana a little more closely. "Your work is admirable, but you seem like a warrior where your partner seems --" Well, she seems cunning from what 'Star saw on the surface which admittedly wasn't too much. "Much more like Julio." He's not entirely sure what he's trying to say and he wonders if Julio was wrong about the small talk with strangers. It makes him feel strange. 

"It seems likely that you've entered into various battles with your knowledge of how armor suits the human body." He noticed on the way down this hall, the way it's all strategically placed, protecting human vitals and only leaving essentials exposed. 'Star didn't get as good a look at the model they passed as he would have liked. 

Illyana stops abruptly. “You were looking at something,” she says, holding a hand out to stop ‘Star as well. “Not just looking, but actually _looking._ Go back to it.” He does, and she speaks as she follows. “I am a warrior,” she explains, “of sorts. And my armor is true armor, not a uniform. Kitty is --” _What was the term in English?_ “-- A people person,” she says, snapping her fingers when she gets it, “much like your Julio. I find we work well as a balanced team. I suspect you are the same.” She pauses. “Is he looking for a new uniform also?”

"He stated something of the sort," 'Star says as they finally return to the armor that he was admiring earlier. "He tends to choose things that are very flashy." He's thinking specifically about Julio's scarves and how he likes to integrate them with his outfits. It's interesting to say the least. "I doubt I would be able to assist him in that task." 'Star steps closer to the half finished armor, running his fingers along the broad plate on the shoulder and then where it runs down the arm. "But as you stated, we are a balance. I work better with Julio than I ever had alone." It's taken him a long time to admit that, but it's true.

“I’m flattered,” Julio grins, stepping up behind them with Kitty at his side. It’s not often that he gets to sneak up on ‘Star, but it looks as though the other man is distracted. “What is that, armor? Like actual armor?” Illyana gives him a cold look, and he clarifies. “It’s pretty,” he explains, “but ‘Star’s basically an acrobat. If he can’t move properly…”

Kitty interrupts him. “It’s not all like this,” she says brusquely, waving them on down the hall. “An ex-colleague of mine developed a more flexible metallic compound for use in armor. It looks solid, but it’s interwoven at an almost molecular level -- it’s practically genius. She left a couple of months ago so we only have a limited amount of it left, but if you’re interested…?”

"It sounds like just the thing we would be interested in," 'Star is eager to tell her and his tone almost matches his expression which is new. He's attempting to get the hang of speaking to more people than just Julio, but it seems to be easier when he can recognize traits in others that match things he either recognizes in himself or Julio. Kitty and Illyana seem… different, but it a good way. Certainly different to Julio's other friend Tabitha. "I do not need much because I can take quite a bit of damage, but my healing factor does not always need to be put to the test." In fact, it seems like he's been stretching it for a while now, pushing it to its limit maybe just to see when it will burn out. 'Star keeps an eye on Julio as they walk and then his other eye on Illyana, scanning her over with that glazed over ghostly white paleness. He wonders for a moment if he's just now seeing her fully, but her aura seems to have affected her appearance slightly. There is a ghostly image of horns on her head and 'Star blinks to attempt to unsee them. No such luck. 

Oblivious to this, Julio is listing ‘Star’s uniform requirements to Kitty. He talks animatedly, gesturing with his hands and going into great detail about ‘Star’s athleticism, his precision and his poise, his warrior-like tendencies and his ruthless tactics. It’s necessary information, but he talks about ‘Star with all the fervor and admiration of a teenager talking about their favourite superhero. He’s watched ‘Star a lot and he knows his methods intimately, and it feels almost freeing to be able to admit his admiration for him. Kitty, at least, has the tact to smile and nod at him. 

“Sections of the armor -- we call it the Dane compound, after its creator -- would work well as shoulder guards and gauntlets. It’s probably still too rigid for anything too extensive, but if you’re fast enough, you could use it to deflect blows aimed at unarmored parts.” Kitty looks at ‘Star for affirmation. 

"I am more than fast enough," 'Star confirms. "Could the gauntlet be fitted with a blade? I have a weapon that currently resides inside of an arm guard that was crafted for me. I'd like to replace it." In all actuality he should have brought it, but he wasn't exactly thinking about weapons in the precise moment that they were hurried over here. "And my swords, there needs to be a place for my blades that sit tightly across my back." 'Star needs them at a moment’s notice and the sheaths built into the interior of his other uniform seemed to suit that. He can see what he needs in his mind, but translating that into a uniform or at least a decent picture of what he's looking for is a bit more difficult than he thought it would be. He's also not sure if he's talking to Illyana or Kitty at this point because he certainly seems that the former would have more of an idea about proper sword placement. 

Illyana smiles at the mention of swords, and it’s far less frightening than usual. “This is... unusual,” she begins. “We do not deal in blades. But -- consider this a favor between friends,” she says, looking as though she’s about to offer her hand to ‘Star to shake it, and stopping herself. “I could design something like the mechanism you described. As for the back holsters, I probably have swords you could model them around.” She squints at ‘Star. “I guess… katanas. Correct?”

Julio nudges Kitty with his elbow. “I’ve never seen her say so many words,” he hisses under his breath, and she elbows him back much harder. He isn’t exactly wrong, though. 

"Yes." A ghost of a smile appears on 'Star's lips and it lingers longer than usual. "I am well versed in the methods of using short swords as well as knives but I prefer the precision of a katana." 'Star motions to the length of his side. "My previous uniform had pouches for knives, but I think that my swords and this new blade mechanism would be enough combined with my other strengths." 

"I am assuming he doesn't speak much either." Kitty turns to Julio, arms crossed in front of her. "Your mysterious alien samurai boyfriend." She can't help but tease him because this is new but also because he richly deserves it. 

Julio crosses his arms, mirroring her. “Or he never shuts up,” he admits, the corner of his lips twitching up in a half-smile. “It’s always one or the other.” He leans back against the wall, eyes following ‘Star as Illyana leads him further down the hallway. He turns back to Kitty. “He’s not going to come out of there with a million weird new swords instead of a uniform, is he?” Not that Julio would be able to say no if he did. 

"I doubt it." Kitty scoffs. "He seems pretty particular and it's not like Illyana to share." Though it's not like her to be so social with clients either. "They must sense each other's warrior spirits or something." She wiggles her fingers at that. "How did you end up with him anyway? Last time I checked you were..." She cuts herself off before she finishes. Julio should pick up what he's trying to say anyway. 

Julio thinks back. “Facebook official with Aki?” he puzzles, then grimaces slightly. “Or crying into a bucket of ice-cream because of Aki. Either way.” He doesn’t want to think about it. “I’ve been with ‘Star for… just over a month.” Less, if you only count everything from them making it _official,_ and more if you count the months they spent teasing and taunting and dancing around one another before they even kissed. They weren’t a couple, not then, but they were certainly a _something_. “We work together,” he explains, in answer to her question. “It’s kind of an office romance.”

"An office romance, huh?" She laughs a little at that. "You seem happy, or at least not as irritated as you normally are." Or maybe it's just her imagination. "Though if he's as violent as he seems, I can see the attraction." Kitty likes to think she can read people pretty well and Julio is no exception. She's had a lot of practice by reading Illyana. "But he's different from anyone else you've been with. Or at least he seems like it." 'Star seems extra violent but also more genuine somehow.

Julio elbows her again. “If you weren’t right, I’d be offended,” he grumbles. “I think I’m offended anyway. But yes, he is different. He’s…” he trails off, looking for the words, and ends up just shrugging. “It’s personal. And difficult to explain. But yeah.” How would he explain ‘Star to somebody? He likes cuddling in bed and _Golden Girls_ marathons and chocolate milk and gratuitous violence. It makes perfect sense to Julio, but it seems wrong to just let other people in on these things ‘Star has decided to share with him. This is different, somehow, to him gossiping to Boomer about their sex life. This is more private. 

"Not going to ask you to explain it." Kitty looks back over to realize that Illyana and 'Star are still not back. "Okay, maybe I lied and he is going to come back with a bunch of weird swords and demon skull accoutrements." She doesn't look like she'd feel too bad about it if that was the case. "Should we go in there?" 

Julio nods grimly. “Probably,” he agrees, and she leads him along. The room in the centre of the spiral is less harshly illuminated than the outer parts, lit with a strangely soft light with no discernable source. Kitty hadn’t been joking about the swords and skulls. There’s an entire wall of them, skulls with twisted horns or elongated teeth and everything from wickedly curved daggers to ancient-looking longswords. In the centre of the wall is a sword that Julio almost mistakes for a stylized wall-lamp; it looks too large to hold, and glows with an unearthly blue light. 

As he watches, Illyana approaches it and takes it down from the wall, lifting it as though it’s nothing even though it’s just about the same size she is, and holding it out in front of her as she assumes a fighting stance. She inclines her head towards the wall. “Choose,” she tells ‘Star, without elaborating. The implication is clear. 

'Star examines the wall with a very clear concentration. Usually he would weigh what he knows about his enemy and what to choose to best exploit any weaknesses, but he knows almost nothing about Illyana and he's going off of instinct alone. With a large sword like that, it's going to cause her to lumber around and certainly be slower than he is. "It would not be unfair to use two, would it?" 'Star turns back to look at her. 

“No.” She tracks him across the room as he ponders the wall, eyes never leaving his back. “Choose whatever is closest to your default. The point of this is to watch how you normally fight.” There’s more to it than that -- it’s been so long since she’s sparred with a human (or almost human) opponent, and ‘Star piqued her interest as soon as they spoke. He has a very obvious air about him, something other people might call inhumanity but that Illyana recognizes most closely as kinship. This man has ghosts in his eyes just like she does, and she knows he learned to fight first by fending them off and later by accepting them. She knows that story well. 

"Understood." 'Star pauses as he takes two swords off the wall and weighs them in his hands before making a stabbing motion forward and then turning on his heel to face Illyana. "Are you ready?" he asks, even though he knows she is. He can see it in her stance and in her body language. 'Star slides his foot forward and takes a deep breath in. Fighting not to kill but to test is something he hasn't done in a very long time and he's looking forward to it. 

Instead of replying verbally, Illyana shifts her foot and turns and takes a swing at him, lightning fast and unpredictable. It almost seems as though the sword moves first and her arms only follow, falling into perfect motion in the wake of it. The light from the sword gets brighter, streaking blue across ‘Star’s vision and concealing Illyana’s movements. She’s not an acrobat like he is, but she stands as the calm in the centre of a storm as the sword swirls around her. When the field of light clears, those horns hovering above her head haven’t faded; if anything they’re only clearer. 

“Hit me if you are able,” she challenges him. It won’t matter. She’s armored -- or she could be, in a split second. 

It doesn't take much for 'Star to slide out of the way, flipping over with his swords out in front to evade another attack. This will be difficult and he's up for the challenge, especially if Julio is watching. He flips the swords in his hands and sprints forward, vaulting over Illyana and her soulsword and then sharply sweeping his leg to bring her down. 

"Should we stop them?" Kitty looks over at Julio. 

Julio shakes his head. “No,” he says, watching as Illyana vaults back up so fast that it almost looks like she didn’t even touch the ground, clutching the soulsword for balance and kicking out at ‘Star with both feet. 

The first misses, glancing his shoulder, and the second connects with his chin. Her boots are soft at the toe, so it’s not damaging, but Julio suspects that a blow to ‘Star’s pride might hurt more than a strike to his face. 

“They’re not gonna hurt each other,” Julio says. “Just -- let them finish.” He’s never seen ‘Star in a proper sword fight before. It’s… captivating. 

'Star stumbles back but he doesn't falter for too long, being quick enough to grab Illyana’s leg and then twist, pushing her off balance enough to fall before bearing down with both his swords. It would be a killing blow if this were anyone else but as it stands Illyana's sword manifests and the metal of both clang as they meet. 

"Excellent," 'Star smiles and it’s truly terrifying for a moment before it fades away and he's back on his feet to let her up. He can see the flare in her aura and when the sword flashed he saw those horns again. "You're a very formidable opponent." 

Illyana nods. She lifts herself up with the sword again, finding her footing before transferring the sword to one hand. The blue sections flicker out of existence, leaving it a jagged black skeleton of what it was. She hangs it up on the wall, shakes her hair back, and regards ‘Star with a studious expression. 

“You’re vulnerable from your shoulders to your wrists,” she declares, resting her hands on her hips. “He said you could heal superficially, but a strike to your arm could render your swords useless when you need them.” She pauses, ignoring Julio’s loud, pointedly indignant cough when she elects not to refer to him by name. “We will armor them to compensate, and build your gauntlet to avert blocking. If you’d had it in our match, you could have released the blade to bypass my sword, and won.” 

"It would have been the killing blow. It's what I intend on using it for," 'Star nods. "And I agree with your assessment. Maintaining the use of my swords is what I need to ensure." He extends his hand to shake Illyana's and after she tentatively accepts it, he crosses his arm in front of his chest and bows to her. "It was a pleasure." It's respectful, like how he addressed his fellow warriors on his planet. He can already tell Illyana deserves the same respect. "I look forward to seeing what you create." 

Julio raises his eyebrows so high they almost touch his hairline. Kitty snickers at him. Julio takes a step closer to her, and speaks almost conspiratorially, in an urgent, hushed tone. 

“Listen,” he says, “I dunno what kind of colours he’s picked out,” _white, probably,_ “or designs or whatever, but -- do you think you’d be able to make me something that matches?” The idea strikes him out of nowhere, but he’s never been one to let a good spur of the moment decision evade him. He thinks back to something ‘Star said recently, about his only alliance being to Julio. Does that make them a team? Julio wants them to be. 

"What? Do you want a logo or something?” Kitty almost laughs at that but when she sees the way that Julio is looking at her she stifles it. “You do, don’t you?” she sighs. “Did you have anything in mind?” There were a couple of others things thrown in there, but it seems that ‘Star is more enraptured with the thought of armor than of fabric. “Also, you’re probably going to have to fill in some blanks for him.” 

“Something white,” Julio says. “White is his favourite. I think it’s ‘cause his old uniform was mostly black.” He pauses in thought. His own uniform is all shades of brown, denim and soft leather and the comforting cotton of the scarf he added. He thinks he’ll keep the scarf, but everything else can go. It’s all bloodstained, literally and figuratively, and up until the night at the MGH facility he thought he was okay with that. Now he’s not so sure. 

“I know you were kidding about the logo, but what if…”

\--

'Star may have never realized it before, but it is amazing how revitalized a uniform change can make one feel. Maybe it's the way that astonishing flexible armor clings to him like a second skin or maybe it's just how different he sees himself in all white, tiny amounts it black splashed about for contrast. 

It could be any number of these things, but 'Star feels whole as he flexes his fingers, crouched on the edge of a building waiting for Julio to return from collecting intel. The breeze is slight and the smell of rain in the air pushes 'Star's anxiousness closer to the visible surface. He may feel content with his uniform but it doesn't mean he's any less twitchy as he waits for his partner. 'Star has always cut somewhat of a foreboding figure, but the sharp contrast of white and black and the palpable tension that's radiating off of him would make anyone that's unlucky enough to spot him think that they had seen a demon. Maybe that was Illyana's goal when she helped construct his outfit.

Julio’s new uniform is black where ‘Star’s is white, and red where it’s black. He kept his boots from the previous uniform but built the new one from the ground up. It’s sleeker, but the armored sections on his shoulders, elbows, knees and chest provide a reassuring weight. His favourite red scarf has been replaced with something that’s almost more of a cape. It falls just above his elbows and buckles to the armor on his left shoulder, wrapping close around his neck in the same way that his scarf did. 

Kitty insisted on fitting his uniform with a thigh holster that holds a knife, his phone, and a series of computer-related odds and ends. He complained about it to her, but now it’s almost starting to grow on him. He’s reinvented and purposeful, stronger and faster and far more dangerous than ever before. 

He’s also currently stuck in a broken air vent, waiting for the information he’s gathered to download onto his phone. There is somebody standing under him, but he can’t see their face through the gap in the vent. 

There is really only so long that 'Star is willing to wait for Julio on the roof and he’ll be reaching that limit very shortly. He remembers that he gave him a breadth of thirty minutes before he should come down and try and look for him. He has currently waited twenty. 

It doesn't take much effort to hop down from his perch, half cape that covers his new shoulder armor fluttering in the wind slightly. He'll be stealthy on the way down, but currently he hears two guards walking near the stairwell that leads to the lower floors. 'Star squints as he concentrate on the pattern of their footsteps and makes his way inside, moving almost silently down the first set of steps to the real door to the entrance. 

He catches the ghost of movement behind the frosted glass of the window and then more clearly as someone turns to stand directly in front of it. They are guarding the door, evidently unaware that he and Julio have already gained access to the roof. 'Star weighs his options before knocking gently on that door and laying in wait while the guard opens it to look. Before the man even knows what's going on, 'Star darts out of the shadows, grabs him and snaps his neck. One distraction eliminated. 

Back in the vent, Julio’s download finishes and he exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He exits the program and sends a message to ‘Star -- __\-- that should play straight through the other man’s earpiece. Just as he sends it, he gets a shiver down his spine that has nothing to do with the fact that he’s stuck in a ruined air vent above a definite enemy.

__They’re supposed to be traceless. Everything from here to Raven Darkholme is meant to be undetectable, and Julio is on edge about it already, especially since their plan has already hit a hitch. Namely: the vent.

He pushes at the compacted roof of the vent segment in front of him with his foot, nudging it slowly instead of just kicking it like he would if he was alone. He can still see the top of somebody’s head through the gap, and they haven’t moved since he started the download. The metal seems to yield and he pushes it harder, bracing himself against the bend in the intact section. Suddenly it creaks, and Julio freezes, holding his breath again and staring through the gap with wide eyes. 

__, comes the reply. The man who was standing under the vent staggers back suddenly, the force of something or in this case someone pushing him. There is a gentle hiss and then a gurgling sound before the threat of someone finding Julio is gone. __'Star examines his work for a moment before he glances up at the air vent and then at his sword wondering if he's going to need to assist with cutting Julio out of such a mangled thing.

“I was twenty minutes,” Julio argues, voice muffled and echoing in the vent. “Says so on my screen.” With the threat of discovery gone he’s able to kick the broken vent properly; one kick dents it, and the second pushes the crushed section out of the vent entirely. 

He slips his phone back into the holster on his thigh, and wriggles out of the vent, legs dangling out above ‘Star. “Man, don’t text me if I’m right near you, okay? I worry enough about you getting square eyes from the TV, I don’t need this shit as well.” He squirms free, dropping with the confidence that ‘Star will catch him.

'Star does and keeps him cradled in his arms for a moment before putting him down. "It would be impossible for my eyes to change shape due to viewing the television. You worry about nonsensical things." He wipes the dust off of Julio's forehead before he sets him down. "I feared you were going to be late so I cleared a path to you and subsequently out of this building. No one here will be missed." As far as 'Star can tell, the only affiliation with Raven Darkholme has with this building is the information stored on the computer servers. The guards were hired in and that usually means no loyalties. 

Julio thanks him with a kiss on the cheek, then sighs. “Bring the first body in here,” he says, voicing his plan while he’s still pulling it together. “I don’t think you’re wrong, but I’m not taking any more risks with this. We’ll make it looked like they offed each other.” The good thing about businesses that dabble in unsavoury activities is that they generally don’t involve the police, which means no autopsies, which means that if this looks like an internal fight instead of an assassination it will probably be accepted as one. It wouldn’t be wise to run to Raven Darkholme complaining about it, but people are foolish, and Julio firmly believes in never giving them a chance. 

“Otherwise,” he says, with a grin that flashes like a bright dagger in the dark, “you did good.” He smiles wider. “You _look_ good.” 

'Star feels good too, better than he has in months and it's kind of showing. He can't help it. He's never expressed outright emotion without some sort of prompting but a confident air is something entirely different. 

"I was hoping that you weren't trapped in that duct," 'Star starts as he heads out the door, finishing when he returns with a body slung across his shoulder. "I was contemplating cutting you out." He tossed the body onto the ground as if it were nothing but garbage and it makes an unpleasant thud against the awful office carpeting. 

“I coulda made it,” Julio insists, sinking to the floor between the corpses and tugging his knife out of its holster. The plating on his knees cushions him far better than the leather patches on his old uniform ever did, and he bites back a smile. “I just couldn’t do it without making a noise and waking this bright specimen of a human up.” He reaches forward, tilting the man’s chin up to inspect him. 

“Y’know,” he says, giving the corpse the impression of a punched, split lip with the knife, “I don’t think this guy moved the entire time I was up there. I didn’t even hear him breathe. I think he fell asleep standing up.” He talks as he works, adding cuts and grazes and torn collars like an artist touching up an almost-finished painting. “How’s your uniform working out for you?”

"Perfectly," 'Star says as he watches Julio work and for a moment he's not sure if he is talking about the uniform or how Julio is working at the moment. He nudges the corpse’s arm with the tip of his boot before he steps on its hand to make it look like there was an altercation where someone's hand was broken. It still makes a sickening crunch sound even if there is no screaming to accompany it. "And yours?" 

"Perfectly," Julio echoes him. He wipes the point of his knife on the inside of one of the men's jackets, holsters it and stands, brushing imaginary dirt off his knees. "Didn't realize how ready I was for a change until we did this." He runs his hands over the plated section on his chest. It covers him from neck to ribs, tapering down to leave his stomach and hips free and easily moveable. 

His hand lingers over his heart, on the red geometric insignia Kitty etched into the plates. 'Star has a matching one in the same place. Come to think of it, Julio doesn't even know if 'Star's heart is exactly where a human's would be, or even if it looks the same, or if he has only one instead of two or more. He didn't encounter one when he was folding 'Star's guts back into his body, though, so that's a plus.

"What is next?" 'Star crosses his arms over his chest, blue eye surveying the bodies and then both of them looking right up at Julio. "We should make our exit and go back and examine the data you collected, unless you had another idea." Knowing Julio, he probably has a slew of them. 

Julio checks the time on his phone. “We don’t have to go home just yet,” he says, just as ‘Star’s stomach rumbles audibly. Julio frowns. “It’s not too late to go out to eat somewhere,” he says, as though casually discussing dinner dates while surrounded by desecrated corpses is an entirely normal thing to do. 

It might be, at least for them. “When’s the last time we went out somewhere nice, anyway?” He knows. It was their first and only proper date, the meeting at Julio’s second favourite coffee shop where Julio had threatened to fake propose marriage in front of all the patrons. Julio smiles fondly. 

They can’t go in their uniforms, but he’s taken to keeping a change of clothes for both of them in the boot of his car. “Where do you wanna go?” he asks, linking arms with ‘Star and walking him out of the room. “There’s a fusion place I like near the base of the Hill, or that new French restaurant on Eighth -- we might need reservations for that, but I’m sure I could figure something out.” He glances at ‘Star, who is suspiciously quiet.

'Star only has to think about it for a second after Julio was done making suggestions. "Pancakes. I want breakfast food." Even though it's closer to dinner time, but it's not as though 'Star has any social regard for what foods should be eaten at certain times of the day. He's remembering pancakes from a commercial on television, one that advertised all you could eat breakfast as if it was some sort of challenge. 'Star would certainly take it as one. He remembers the address from the commercial as well. "If that is to your satisfaction." Though honesty, 'Star would insist they go there anyway even if Julio said no. 

Julio pulls a face. His head is saying no but his stomach is saying yes. Visions of bacon burgers and caramel milkshakes swim through his thoughts, and in spite of himself he relents. 

"Okay," he sighs, giving up on his idea of them wearing fancy clothes out to a fancy restaurant and going on a date, fancily. He'd never admit it out loud, but he'd take an impending diner disaster over unpronounceable French food any day. "Were you thinking of anywhere in particular?" He knows 'Star must be. The other man always has very specific, very weird ideas, and more often than not they've been learned from the television.

"I know just the place." 'Star actually smiles at him. It's kind of scary that whipped cream covered pancakes give him the same kind of joy that perfectly executing a stealth assassination does. He takes Julio by the hand and almost drags him down the hall to the elevator. 

"It's bound to have other things than pancakes," which 'Star has never even properly had. "So I will forgive you if you choose to eat something else." At the pace he's going it doesn't take them long to get back down to Luz and for 'Star to start stripping off his uniform. 

Julio stops him with a hand on his shoulder, at the buckle that joins his cape to his armor. "Slow down," he says. "Let me do it. I told myself I was gonna." 'Star gives him a puzzled look, and he explains: "I never could figure out how to get you out of your old uniform," he says, unbuckling the cape. "So I wanted to do it with this one the first time you wore it." It's stupid and sentimental and he knows it, but 'Star isn't fighting it, even if he probably doesn't understand. 

Julio folds the cape and tucks it to the side in the boot of the car and sets to work unzipping the sides of 'Star's uniform. The pulls are tucked under his belt; Julio lifts them to where they stop at his underarms and curve to the side, concealed under his shoulder armor. The top half of the chest piece falls away in two halves. 

'Star actually shuts his eyes against the sensation, the feeling of being stripped strangely good and somehow peaceful. If he's not careful, he might fall into that mood while they are out. The mood where he wants nothing more than to be looked after and taken care of. 

Taking his uniform off is pushing dangerously him close to that space. He turns pliant under Julio's touch and he parts his lips just slightly to let out a small moan and a sigh. Now he wants the other man to take his time even if this is not the place for it, even when they shouldn't do this here. 

Julio actually glances around before continuing. It's not likely that someone else would be out on the street at this time, not here, but he's wary of having the mood broken. Confident that they're not being watched, he helps 'Star out of the sleeves and gloves of his uniform, marvelling over how closely the armor molds to his body, and marvelling more at everything underneath it. 

'Star is bright and pale in the moonlight, and Julio knows in that moment that he'll never truly be over him. Never be used to stripping him down and seeing what he sees right now, this marble sculpture of a man who seems all too happy to let Julio play at being his artist. He unbuckles 'Star's belt and pulls at his zipper, helping him out of his uniform pants. 

"There's clothes in the duffel bag in the boot," Julio says, making no move whatsoever to fetch them.

“I know.” ‘Star says back, tone hushed. “Aren’t you going to,” he stops himself as he brings Julio’s hands up to rest against his chest. “Make sure I did not incur any injuries?” He shivers at the feeling of warmth and then at the smoothness on Julio’s fingertips on his skin. ‘Star man revels in this and in the care that his partner takes in mapping every bit of his body out. He knew Julio wanted to know exactly how to undress him, but ‘Star wants him to know exactly what’s underneath as well. To know what he’d find if he peeled away skin and tendons and muscles. How to strip him clean both literally and figuratively. 

‘Star moves one of Julio’s hands up to rest right where his heart would be and then moves the other slightly lower and just to the left. Two heartbeats thrum so close in time that you wouldn’t know there were two if you were not paying attention. ‘Star is making sure Julio pays attention. “Did you ever notice I had two heartbeats?” A binary vascular system. 

To his credit, Julio doesn't flinch away. "No," he answers, in quiet awe. "I didn't -- I can barely hear one. I think you must be quieter than normal, or somethin'." A lot of things 'Star is or does seem to be naturally stealthy or at least inconspicuous. Julio remembers the alien telling him that he's not built to be a tracker, but that wouldn't rule him out as a silent predator. When Julio was among the Ashen Faces, they called him Jaguar Prince, but if that's the case then maybe that makes 'Star king. A natural hunter instead of a mistaken one.

He moves his hands down to 'Star's hips and presses his ear to his chest and sure enough he hears them, close but not quite in unison. 'Star isn't injured. Any sprains or grazes he may have incurred during their break-in would have healed minutes ago. Julio is still listening.

"You hear them now." 'Star doesn't ask because he knows. He wasn't sure what he thought Julio's reaction would be but he didn't think it would be this quiet reverence. "What are you thinking about?" he asks as he brings his hands around to trace up Julio's back and then threads them into his hair. If he shuts his eyes he can hear his own heartbeats in his ears, feels the thrum of them and realizes just how strong they beat. Is what Julio doing now something that all humans do? Listen to each other's heartbeats? And if they do, what is the purpose? 

"Nothing," Julio admits, but it's not dismissive. He opens his eyes and draws away reluctantly, straightening up and fixing his hair. "You probably don't believe me, I mean, it's always something with me isn't it? But not now." He steps back just a fraction and begins shedding his own uniform, unwinding the capelike scarf and unbuckling his shoulder armor. 

"It's like I could just... listen to that forever and tune everything else out." It's a steady, reliable rhythm. A safe noise. He realizes it's been awhile since he's truly felt safe. He lifts off the two joined pieces that make up his chest armor, placing them carefully into the boot of the car. He keeps sneaking glances at 'Star, who doesn't seem to be showing any inclination of wanting to dress himself. It's okay. Julio could just keep looking.

And 'Star is willing to let him. "It's not always something." Though they both know that that is not entirely true. There is always a thought, a story, something that the other man wants to say to him even if he never ends up doing it. He smiles just a small smile before he actually reaches for his change of clothes, pulling on his pants and threading a belt through the loops of the jeans that look too tight but actually fit just perfectly. As much as 'Star is a predator, perhaps Julio has forgotten that he is one as well. He might not be the same kind as 'Star, but he's built for destruction just the same. 

Julio strips out of his uniform all at once after unhooking his armor and the thigh holster and unlacing his boots. He stands near-naked on the street in the moonlight as he folds his uniform and stows it away, and he's almost reluctant to get dressed again. He feels as though it might feel good just to stand here a while and breathe, but then again, the air is thick with smog and the heavy smell that comes before rain here. Has he ever really breathed in this city? Have either of them? 

He feels around in the boot for his spare street clothes, finding his black jeans first and stepping into them. He stumbles and ends up leaning against Luz for support as he squeezes into them and sucks in his stomach to button them at the top. There's a packet of cigarettes in the pocket. He puts one between his lips, and waits until he's pulled on his shirt to light it. 

"I love you," he says, wrapping his scarf around his neck. It's white with a pattern of black stars. "That's all I was thinking."

"I love you too." 'Star examines him for a second before pulling on a soft t-shirt and then a black and white leather jacket. "Still smoking?" He wonders if the stark unpleasantness of the habit might have also been lost with everything he gained to reach this place. If Julio does have a smell, and 'Star knows distinctly that he does, it's got something to do with those cigarettes. It's not heavy or languid smelling like lingering, acrid smoke. It's more like when it’s first lit, the spark against the paper and all wrapped up in leather and the bright points of the sun when it pokes through the clouds. 'Star doesn't need to breathe in the city when he can breathe in Julio instead. 

"Yeah," Julio says, oblivious to the thought behind the subject. "I tried to quit a while back, but you stressed me out so much I had to start again." It's a joke and he tells it with a wry smile, even if it's technically the truth. He wonders if 'Star remembers everything that happened that night he wandered in wearing the raincoat. Does he know that Julio stayed up until he knew he was going to pull through? Does he know how much he worried, and that even back then he cared? He hands 'Star his shoes from the back of the car, and tugs on his own boots. 

'Star snorts lightly at that, being familiar enough with Julio now that a joke is recognizable when said to him in that sardonic way that almost always imbues his boyfriends tone. "If the stress will not shorten your lifespan than the cigarettes certainly will. I fail to see the appeal,” he states as he pulls his shoes on. "Perhaps you could describe it to me." 'Star places his swords in the back seat of the car with care before he turns back to Julio.

"Aww," Julio says, sarcastically touched, pressing his palm to his heart. "I didn't know you cared." That's not true either. It may have been once, but not anymore. He closes the back and steps over to the driver's side, opening his door and sliding into his seat. "C'mon," he says, waving 'Star around to the passenger side. "Where are we going?" No doubt 'Star has the address memorized from a jingle on a TV advertisement. _Bacon burgers,_ Julio thinks again, and his stomach grumbles. 

"67 14th Avenue. It is across from the Shoe Carnival." Which is a very strange name for a shoe store but that's what the television had told him. He takes his place in the passenger seat and buckles his seatbelt without needing to be asked. They have fallen into a strange but easy rhythm when they ride in Luz together and 'Star has even begrudgingly learned to respect if not enjoy the car itself. He would never tell Julio that though, it's one secret he will keep. "Are you going to partake in the endless pancakes with me?" He raises an eyebrow at Julio.

Julio shudders. "No way, dude," he says. The thought of it makes his stomach turn. "You're on your own with this one. You know I don't like sweets." Ice-cream is a rare exception, reserved entirely for their movie nights, and even then Julio rarely leaves room for it after pizza. He regards 'Star suspiciously out of the corner of his eye as he starts the car and pulls out of their park. He has a vague idea of where they're headed -- he knows this city better than he'd like to. "Are you just gonna have pancakes for dinner? Only pancakes?" Not that Julio's choice is much better, but... 

"I may eat something else." 'Star is undecided as it is. He wants pancakes and syrup but nothing as sweet as what Julio is most likely imagining. The vision of butter melting and syrup cascading down the side of a large fluffy stack of pancakes is enough to makes 'Star's eyes flutter shut and a smile blossom on his face. "But I may also just eat pancakes." The only other thing that he's thinking about is something bubbly so 'Star thinks that he might just get an orange soda as well. "I do think you should reconsider your position on some sweet foods." 

"I'm not gonna stop you," Julio shrugs, driving with one hand and messing with the car stereo with the other. "But why would I need to reconsider my position when bacon exists?" He successfully starts the music. It's not his usual driving playlist; it's something slower, less like a pounding heartbeat and more like the steady fall of rain. It's not what he'd normally choose, but he finds he can mouth the lyrics anyway. He turns it down just enough for them to keep talking over it, then winds down his window, plucking the cigarette from his lips and flicking it out of the car. With both hands free, he grips the wheel and speeds up. If they're lucky, they'll make it to the diner before it starts raining.

"You make a convincing point. Though bacon is better with syrup," 'Star says matter-of-factly and leans back in his seat. He looks out the window for a movement then glances back over at Julio before sliding his hand over the center console and onto the other man’s lap. 

"Have you ever considered leaving the city?" The thought just strikes him and he speaks it aloud before his eyes focus back on the road before them. 

Julio's voice is strangely expressionless. "I don't want to say it out loud," he says. "It seems -- I'm not superstitious, but I feel like if I talk about it it's just gonna end up... I dunno, cursing it or spoiling the wish or something." Like when you blow out birthday candles and wish but you can't tell anyone. The metaphor would be lost on 'Star. "And it's difficult. My house is here. My job is here, and I don't have any other skills." He sighs, reaching up to smooth a strand of hair back from his forehead. "But yes. I've thought about it. And I'd do it in a heartbeat with you."

"I just thought I'd ask. You've been other places, no obligation to stay in all honesty. You can go anywhere else and do what you do. What we do. I've thought about what it would be like to leave here and return to my home planet. To liberate it." But he would never want to leave Julio now. He couldn't. He wouldn't. "If I ever went I would want you to accompany me." 

Julio raises his eyebrows. "Liberate it?" he asks. "Is this something you've been sitting on for a while, or...?" Or is this something to do with their recent changes of heart? 'Star has never said anything to indicate any allegiance to his people, nor any connections with people he once knew on Mojoworld. Then again, 'Star is notorious for neglecting to mention things unless he's asked. 

"I've thought about it on and off since I arrived on this planet. It was my mission, it's why I came to Earth in the first place." 'Star wasn't exactly avoiding the subject, he just found that it wouldn't exactly be useful. What would Julio need to know about Mojoworld? The more he left out the better, but now that they have become closer? He felt it important to at least say something. 

"Your personal mission, or a mission given to you by -- by whoever it was that you were with?" Julio frowns, looking back to the road as he turns onto 14th. "I never thought about it," he admits, "but you must have had someone, right?" Julio feels rather sheepish. _What, did you think he really did just fall from the sky?_ "Are they expecting you back sometime?"

"I am unsure. When I arrived on Earth I was attacked by Mojo's soldiers from my world. After their defeat I haven't seen anyone since. It is a good thing that Mojo nor anyone from my homeworld have attempted to come to Earth. It would be disastrous." Anyone back on his planet? "I had comrades, but my mission was a solitary one. I am the only one with the strength to overthrow Mojo." But the more 'Star thinks about it the more he realizes that maybe if he did abandon his people it wouldn't be such a bad thing. 

"So..." Julio ventures as they turn into the parking lot. "What does Earth have to do with your mission?" It's left unspoken, but he wonders about everything else 'Star has been doing here too. Were the X-Men ever factored into this plan? Was Julio himself? Was 'Star meant to come here to learn something other than how to be human? Julio guesses he must have. He doesn't see how snack cakes or cartoons or matching uniforms would have helped 'Star overthrow an alien tyrant.

"I was supposed to bring back suitable warriors to help my cause. Powerful beings of legend, but the X-Men proved unsuitable for the task and I'd only just met you." Though there are gaps in his memory and he finds it feels much more sinister than it should. "If I took anyone back, it would be you." Now that Julio mentions it, however, he is surprised that none of his Cadre brethren had made the jump to come find him. Perhaps things back home are worse than he even thought. 

Julio snorts. "I'm good," he says, "but I dunno if I'd call myself a powerful being of legend." He was a god for a while, but that's different. "I'm just... I'm just a dude who's really craving a milkshake. Speaking of." He parks the car, and unbuckles his seatbelt, but doesn't get out. 

"But, uh. For the record -- just in case you ever get the urge to go on some crazy dangerous road trip through the space/time continuum to overthrow a ugly yellow Peep with a face... I'm with you, man. Through whatever."

_A peep.._.

'Star lets that reference escape him without inquiring. "I will let you know if I would ever like to return to my planet. As of right now, there is no other place I'd rather be than right here." Though 'Star would have to disagree with the thought that Julio is not a great warrior of legend. He's more than proven himself in battle, the Cadre would more than accept a warrior such as him. Those thoughts aside, he is very hungry and 'Star suspects that Julio is too. 

"Let us go inside." 

\-- 

By the time Julio gets through his milkshake, 'Star has eaten two and a quarter pancake stacks and shows little sign of stopping. The only reason he hasn't eaten more, Julio thinks, is that he insists on eating each pancake individually, cutting them into unnecessarily perfect squares and working to the middle from the outside. Julio swipes his finger on the edge of 'Star's plate and steals some syrup, licking it off before he speaks. 

"Are you even getting full from this, or are you just gonna keep going until you drive these poor people out of business?" The waitress looks at him in alarm, and he uses it as an opportunity to wave her over for more coffee. 

"They advertised a neverending supply of pancakes and I intend to find out exactly what that means." 'Star takes another bite before he leans forward and takes a rather loud sip from his glass of orange soda through the straw. It's getting down to the last dregs and the straw rattles the ice around just enough that the waitress in question offers to bring 'Star another drink. He readily accepts it. "One should never issue a challenge if they are unprepared to meet the consequences of such a defeat."

"Oh man," Julio shakes his head, smiling in spite of himself. "It's not a _challenge_ , dude." Not the way 'Star sees it at least. The waitress brings their coffee and orange soda, and Julio sips the coffee while 'Star slurps the soda. They sit in near-silence until Julio's cup is almost empty again. When he speaks, it's in hushed tones, like he's scared to say this when they're not in private. 

"Where would we go?" he asks, returning to their earlier conversation.

It takes a moment for 'Star to process what Julio is attempting to say, blinking for a moment before actually setting down his knife and fork and bringing his glass of soda closer to him. "I do not know this planet as you do," he starts. "But I think I'd like to go somewhere where the rain is not so constant. Maybe where it's sunny more often than not." If 'Star had to compare the two, he'd say this city resembles Mojoworld in two ways, the oppressive humidity and the way the buildings all seem to run together at times. He think he'd like to be somewhere that doesn't remind him of his home at all. 

Julio pauses to think. "We could head to the coast," he says. Somewhere breezy but not cold, with sand and clear water and coastal roads to drive along together. Maybe they could do Hollywood and find work assassinating big wig directors and celebrities. He gets the feeling 'Star might enjoy that. 

He zones out thinking about it, imagining 'Star swimming at the beach -- does he even know how? -- and the two of them walking along it together at sunset. "It'd be a long drive, but maybe the further away we are..." The less likely it is that something from their past will follow them. Julio was never one to run from a fight, but now there's so much at stake.

"The less likely anyone will be to follow us," 'Star says it aloud but he's also thinking that the further away they go the more likely it is that they might escape whatever fate is waiting for them here. Good, bad or otherwise. 'Star isn't a stranger to brushes with death, but somehow the thought of Julio being killed or worse puts him on edge. He never runs, would stay in a fight until he was physically removed from it but now… now he may just grab Julio and run at the first opportunity. Or at least he would if Raven Darkholme hadn't attempted to make this personal. 

"So how does Hollywood sound?" Julio says, with a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "We could get a nicer apartment. Somewhere..." He pauses to think. There's an image in his mind, something he saw in a magazine or a movie. Open windows and white tile and clean sheets. He feels almost wrong thinking about it. _Sometime between here and the night of the facility, you turned into a housewife. Remember when you thought you knew what you were getting into?_

"Somewhere bright," he finishes. Somewhere without cracks in the bathroom walls and lingering bloodstains on the carpet. He wouldn't miss the memories there, not as long as 'Star himself was safe with him. 

"They have a beach there, don't they?" 'Star looks up at Julio hopefully, too wrapped up in the thought of something new and different and best of all something with Julio to think that maybe they might be getting ahead of themselves. 'Star was never one for cynicism, just logical to a fault but he recognizes a change in the man in front of him. Maybe it's not so much that he's different entirely just that he's different to 'Star. It's brings them closer, makes them a better team. "I very much think I would like to swim in the ocean." He can swim, but he’s never done it for pleasure, only out of necessity. "I just want to be with you." 

"They have a beach," Julio confirms. "90210, right?" He knew he'd think of an appropriate reference eventually. "And listen, if we fall short and end up in a run-down apartment in… I dunno, the ass end of wherever, you'll still have me." He downs the last of his coffee and steals more syrup from 'Star's plate. "Whenever you want me," he can't resist adding. He even winks. 

"Can I take that as a promise?" 'Star subconsciously licks the leftover syrup from his lips. For a moment he's not sure if he means the beach or the last part of what Julio said but it's leaning on a little bit of both. "Sex on the beach would certainly be a viable option." He lets himself smile just slightly. 

Julio grins, hiding the redness on his cheeks behind his coffee cup. "Don't," he mumbles, averting his eyes. "'S not as good as it looks in videos. You get sand all up in your... everything." It's true. It's awful. The thought of doing it with 'Star is overwriting all the bad memories worryingly quickly, though. He takes a sip of his coffee, forgetting that the cup is empty and choking on air. "Uh. How are you going with your... pancakes?"

'Star looks at Julio and looks at his pancakes before he makes a sort of sour face. "I think I may need to be done." His stomach lurches just as he says that and the sweet smell of syrup makes him frown. The thought of even taking another sip of his soda is making -- something happen in his stomach. "Julio..." 

Julio grimaces. "Oookay," he says, calling the waitress over for the bill. "Damage control." Julio pays for everything, and 'Star, to his credit, manages to make it outside before he throws up.

\--

'Star actually closes his eyes when the commercial for the diner plays on TV that night, rolling over on his side on the couch and pulling the blanket that he stole from the bed over him. It's not helping, nothing is really helping and his stomach aches like he ate too much. It also might have had something to do with the fact that everything he consumed was so riddled with sugar that it probably didn't even constitute real food, but that's neither here nor there. He’s never been sick like this before and it’s getting to him.

"Seriously," Julio is telling him, "the root beer will help." He's pacing across the floor behind the couch, looking at lists of stomach ache cures on his phone browser. "Or vinegar chips. I know you don't wanna eat anything else, but..." If he was asked half an hour ago how he thought his night would turn out, this isn't the answer he would have given. It's not that he minds taking care of 'Star, but this isn't the way he usually does it.

"I do not want to eat or drink anything else..." 'Star mumbles against the pillows and he pulls the blanket up over his head as well. He wants nothing to do with any type of food and he's not sure if he's going to throw up again but he does know that he wishes to expel whatever it is that is making him feel like this. At least he didn't throw up inside of Luz. Julio would probably not be speaking to him right now if that had been the case.

Julio sighs, slumping against the back of the couch. He can't deal with this like he's dealt with 'Star's problems in the past. All of those have been emergencies; this is just something they have to wait out. "Is there anything I _can_ do for you?" he asks, cautiously reaching down to pat the lump in the blanket that he assumes is 'Star's head. The ad for the diner flashes onscreen again, and Julio wisely reaches for the remote to change it. He lands on a movie channel, currently playing something animated, and sets the remote down. 

"Sit with me," 'Star calls from under the blanket, squirming around to try and get more comfortable. "Or help me purge whatever foul thing has caused this to happen from my body." The second option is not even one 'Star is considering, but it sounds good at the time. Truth be told, he's still a little confused about how this happened in the first place. "How could the pancakes have betrayed me?" His voice is a miserable mumble beneath the blanket.

Julio pinches the bridge of his nose and groans quietly. "You just ate too many," he says, trying not to sound like he's telling 'Star off for it even though he technically may be. "You're lucky you didn't... I dunno, explode or something. A human couldn't have done that. You just _shouldn't_ have." He sighs again, circling around to the front of the couch and nudging 'Star's feet aside to sit down. He cuddles him through the blanket, careful not to touch his stomach. 

'Star shifts a little before he moves over completely, still bundled in the blanket and draped across Julio's lap. He stays like that for a long moment before he moves the blanket down just a little so Julio can see his eyes but nothing else. "What is this root beer you were speaking about?" Julio is warm and his presence on the couch makes ‘Star feel a little bit better, though he’s not sure how. As far as he knows, curative properties in his aura are not a part of Julio’s mutation.

Julio bites back a smirk. "It's kinda like... a mix between soda and gingerbread?" He wrinkles his nose at his own description. "No, wait, I take that back." _Gross._ "It's good, dude. You'll feel better." He lifts 'Star off and stands, sweeping his hair back into a ponytail. "I'm gonna go to the store for some. I won't be long, I promise." He kisses 'Star on the forehead, and walks over to the door to pick up his coat. It's raining again, and heavily, but the store is only across the street.

'Star would protest but the thought that Julio is going to go and come back with something that could potentially cure him is too good a thought to pass up. He curls back up on the couch, grimacing as nausea bubbles up again and a sour taste creeps into the back of his throat. "I will be here." His hand creeps out of the jumble of blankets and pats around until he finds the pillow and pulls it close. 'Star isn't exactly sold on this root beer but he trusts Julio enough to trust he knows what he's doing. "Hurry back." 

“I’m only going across the street,” Julio mumbles, zipping up his jacket and pulling the hood up. His boots are by the door and he steps into them, stumbling slightly as he tugs them up around his calves. “There anything else you want while I’m out?” ‘Star shakes his head, looking distinctly horrified that Julio would even suggest more food at a time like this. Julio apologizes. “Okay. I’ll only be a minute. Don’t puke again while I’m away.” With that, he’s out the door.

'Star mumbles something rather incoherent at him before he reaches for the remote but realizes that he's okay with watching what's on TV currently. He never watched many animated movies or cartoons until he moved in with Julio, but they are nice and simple and it helps him relax. If he was feeling up to it, 'Star might even curl closer around the pillow near his stomach but he's queasy enough as it is. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hopes that Julio isn't actually mad at him for dragging him to that diner and then promptly getting sick. If he was better at being human than none of this would have happened. 

Julio returns ten minutes later with root beer for ‘Star and real beer for himself, as well as a packet of snack cakes which he’s hidden in his jacket. He knows ‘Star will appreciate them tomorrow, if not today. He greets ‘Star from the door with a wave, and gets a very sad, very small one in return. He piles everything into the fridge before gathering a bottle for ‘Star and one for himself and returning to the couch. 

“What are you watching, _querido?_ ” he asks, sitting down and letting ‘Star curl around him again. 

'Star had flipped around a bit before he settled on something while Julio was gone. He squints at the TV as if he's having a hard time seeing it. " _Ninja Turtles,_ " He says before offering the remote to Julio. "But you may choose whatever you would like." It's not often that 'Star gives up control of the television, but the mood has struck him and he's far too preoccupied with attempting to chase away his stomach ache by any means possible to care. 

Julio catches on. “Dude,” he says, even more concerned than before, “you must be really sick if you’re willing to let me control the remote.” _For my own television. In my own apartment. Ugh._ “It’s okay, though. I’m cool with _Ninja Turtles_.” He regrets it as soon as he says it, knowing he’s doomed himself to twenty minutes of ‘Star criticizing the blue turtle’s sword techniques, but it’s not like there’s anything else worth watching this late at night. 

"I'm," 'Star sniffs the open bottle of root beer before making a face. "Attempting to be cordial." His stomach lurches again and he attempts to push the bottle back into Julio's hand. "I am not going to drink that." He's being obstinate but it smells just as sweet, if not sweeter than the syrup he had with his pancakes and he's not here for that. 

Julio feels a twinge of annoyance. “I went out in the rain to get that for you, man. Do you want to get better or not?” He doesn’t press the matter beyond that, though. He takes the bottle back, and sets it on the arm of the couch. “Tell me if you change your mind,” he sighs, settling back into the couch cushions and resting his hand on ‘Star’s shoulder. ‘Star stares up at him balefully, and the corner of Julio’s mouth twitches up in an almost imperceptible smirk. “I guess you lost the challenge, huh?” 

'Star's mouth twists into a scowl. "I did not lose. I was simply not prepared." He has no idea what one does to prepare for eating large quantities of pancakes and butter, but there must be something. "Perhaps I was poisoned. That would account for how ill I feel." He narrows his eyes slightly. "I should return to that establishment and interrogate the employees." Though the more logically sound part of his mind chimes in to tell him that would not be a scenario in which he would stand to gain anything. Unless someone did actually attempt to poison him. 

Julio buries his face in his hands and groans. “Nobody tried to poison you,” he reasons, “and even if they did, they wouldn’t have succeeded if you hadn’t eaten so much. I think you overloaded your healing factor. _Again_.” He’s frustrated, but he can’t quite let himself be angry. He knows ‘Star is still struggling to navigate this very new Earth of his, trying to find his boundaries in a seemingly endless world of things to see and do and fight and get sick on. 

"And how exactly can you be sure of this?" 'Star grows but there is really no heat behind it. He doesn't have the strength to be properly angry, he doesn't have the strength to be properly anything right now. He's never felt this kind of weak before and he's not sure if he enjoys the thought of being coddled by Julio or if he despises it. 'Star reaches over to take the root beer back with a frown but he doesn't drink it quite yet. "And I am uncertainly how my healing factor could be affected by pancakes." 

“Neither,” Julio admits, “but you’re not healing, are you? You’re still sick.” Point made, he reaches for his own beer, downing about half the bottle at once. “I dunno, dude. Feel like I should, since I’ve met so many people with healing factors, but everyone’s different.” He’s seen people regrow burned flesh from bone in a matter of seconds, and people so resistant to harm that they barely needed healing factors in the first place. ‘Star’s is not unimpressive by any means, but he clearly has limits. 

But 'Star's is manufactured and it's not an original part of his mutation. He suspected that the rapid rate at which it burns out must be due to that and not anything that he just so happens to be doing. 'Star could technically keep going for ages once injured, but if he lost a limb it wouldn't grow back. If he had to guess, 'Star suspects that his real mutation, the one he might have been gifted with from his creation, has something to do with the ghostly visions in his eye but he can't be for certain and he doubts Julio would have any explanation. "It will come back." 'Star takes a very small sip of the root beer. It's -- it's not bad. 

Julio nods. “I hope it comes back soon,” he says, voice and expression softening. “You know I don’t like seeing you hurt like this.” He resists the urge to add _because you whine too much,_ just to preserve any semblance of detachment he may have still had. It’s not true, and it’s not as though he’s fooling anyone either. Kitty took one look at them both and knew he was smitten. Illyana probably knew too, in that strange, almost supernatural way of hers. Jamie probably knows. Julio anxiously confessed it (or a version of it; the newer, more terrified prototype of what he feels for ‘Star now) to Doug that night ‘Star came in in the raincoat. Tabitha knows. _Alison_ knows. Domino, whose real name Julio is yet to discover, apparently knows. 

Julio is just grateful that all his splits from old teams were amicable. He’d hate to have enemies who knew to use ‘Star against him. There is Raven Darkholme, of course, but they have their (collective) eyes on that issue. The only other threat is Scott Summers, but Julio hasn’t heard anything more of him since they spoke to Domino. Maybe the threat was an empty one. 

Maybe not an empty threat but just an early warning. With Domino's help, 'Star distanced himself from Scott Summers in enough time to at least attempt a clean break. Doesn't meant that someone at some point won't be coming after him. 

Coming after them as a collective, but 'Star will be ready and they have faced far more powerful enemies than Scott Summers before. "This is not bad." 'Star breaks that relaxed silence between them, gesturing the bottle of root beer at Julio before taking another sip. It's better than just not bad but he's being tentative. 

“Is it helping?” Julio asks. If ‘Star is keeping it down at all, he guesses that it must be. He shifts again, putting his feet up on the arm of the couch without moving ‘Star too much from his original position beside him. Out of nowhere, he recalls the first time he ever visited ( _visited_ is a very loose term) ‘Star’s old apartment. He remembers bringing coffee and pretending to like the orange juice he was given in return. He remembers climbing up a fire escape with his arm so injured he could barely use it, and he remembers sucking ‘Star off before talking him into going on a date. This was no more than a month or so ago, but it seems more distant than it should.

"It is not causing me to projectile vomit like I was earlier." It's said with the air of a joke but it's still hard to tell with 'Star exactly. "So I suppose it's working." He can tell Julio is thinking again, he can always tell with the way there is a certain spark in his eyes. He won't pry this time. He thinks he already might have a good idea about what it's about anyway. For all intents and purposes this isn't what they were a few weeks ago, much less a month ago. 'Star was something different altogether, something monstrous, something untamable. But now -- now he hardly resembles the man, the killer that he was. 

Julio shudders. “I won’t bring it up again if you don’t,” he mumbles, then grimaces. “I mean I won’t _talk about it_ if you don’t -- never mind.” With that, he finishes his beer and sets the empty bottle down in front of the couch. “Are you getting tired at all?” Just thinking about it makes him yawn. He glances back at the clock in the kitchen, and it’s late. _Early. Whatever. It’s four._ “I was kidding when I said I’d make you sleep in the bathtub, dude. The bed is fine.” 

"I do not wish to throw up on the bed or on you. It might be much safer to sleep out on the couch." 'Star doesn't want to, he wants to be closer to Julio because it will make him feel better, not because the man has any curative properties, but somehow psychologically. "As much as I do not want to." He pulls the blanket a little closer to him after he sets the root beer down. "You can retreat to our bed if you wish." It's said with the kind of pout that tells Julio what 'Star really thinks about that idea. 

Julio heaves a sigh. “If you’re gonna be like that about it, I can stay on the couch with you.” ‘Star looks up at him suddenly, hopefully, and in doing so manages to elbow him in the ribs. Julio winces. “Or, uh. Beside the couch.” He’s pretty sure he can already feel his vertebrae realigning themselves in a decidedly unfavourable configuration, and part of him (a considerable part) longs to retreat to the bedroom and curl up under the blankets, but ‘Star stayed by his side when he was concussed and potentially about to be sick and it’s only fair that he does the same. 

'Star recognizes a compromise when he sees or hears one and he knows that attempting to get Julio to sleep on the same couch with him that's already too small is just going to be a nightmare waiting to happen. "Alright." He sighs and shifts back to the other side of the couch, curling up as best he can. 'Star stares at the TV blankly for a little while longer before his eyes actually get heavy and fall shut. Maybe all Julio needed to do all along was coax him to sleep.


End file.
